


The Mudblood is going to pay.

by KimFinLan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, BDSM, Ball Gag, Breasts, Crying, Dark, Dark Magic, Dreams and Nightmares, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Punching, Forced Orgasm, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts Head Boys & Head Girls, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Masterbation, Mature Harry Potter, Mean Draco Malfoy, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Nameless witches, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Canon Compliant, Pain, Physical Abuse, Piano, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Violence, Smoking, Smut, Stalking, Touching, Violence, Voyeurism, creeper Draco Mafloy, forced pleasure, gagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimFinLan/pseuds/KimFinLan
Summary: Draco is pissed. How dare she? She thinks she can get away with that? He'll show her. That mudblood is going to pay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is strictly non-con and rated mature for a reason. Super trigger warnings.  
> If you're here, you've read the warnings - you know what's coming - it's your choice.  
> I'm new to writing - sorry if I suck.  
> I have no Beta ... I probably wouldn't let anyone beta this anyway, just cause of what it is.  
> I'm a little embarrassed to share it, let alone have someone proof read it before I post it - so yeah.

Her brown eyes snapped open as her head was yanked back by the bushy ponytail at the nape of her neck. She had been slumped forward over the stacks of library books before her, fast asleep - drool smattered her cheek and the pages she had passed out on. Hermione gave a loud yelp, immediately reaching back to grab hold of the hand that held her head at such an angel. She felt the cool tip of a wand pressed to her throat, heard the whisper of “silencio” and panic flooded her veins. One hand held the wrist of the fingers now fully entwined in her hair, while the other reached blindly for the wand that once sat on the table next to the books. All she felt was smooth tabletop, her wand no longer where she left it. 

 

“Looking for this?” his voice ghosted over the shell of her ear. The wand that was held at her throat was now twirling in slender pale fingers before her face. Hermione grimaced.  _ She was being held in this horrible position by her own wand?! And who in Merlin's name would dare attempt such a thing, in the library of all places? _  She tried to look back at her captor, but his fingers held fast in her hair, pushing her head forward so that it smacked onto the book in front of her. She winced in pain, the side of her face that collided with the thick tomb smarting,  as stars danced across her vision. 

 

The panic that once gripped her swiftly turned into anger and she bucked up against the hand holding her. A male voice chuckled deeply and the wand tip poked into neck once more. 

 

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, mudblood, the choice is yours.” Realization dawned on her as she heard his voice once more.  _ Draco fucking Malfoy had some gall if he thought he could get away with this!  _

 

Silenced as she was, Hermione only nodded her understanding. She'd let him think he had the upper hand… surely someone would stop and question them if they were to leave the library together. She would never be caught with the likes of the Slytherin bastard, and the whole school knew it. Last she knew it was three o'clock in the afternoon, there would be plenty of people in the library if they tried to leave it, and he'd have to march her right past them. 

 

Hermione didn't count on the fact that it was the last Saturday of the year, and she had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago. Didn't know that most students would be in the dinning hall and enjoying dinner and the company of their peers.  

 

Malfoy's instructions were whispered, but clear. She was to pack up her bag, leave the library books at the table and start walking out of the damn near empty library. 

 

Hermione nodded her understanding once more. He released her hair, but kept the wand trained on her. With trembling hands she gathered parchment and quills,  and stuffed them unceremoniously into her messenger bag. She made to stand, sliding the chair backwards and getting to her feet. Draco was behind her and she could feel the wand tip jab her in the ribs through the light, blue jumper she wore. She swatted at his hand, turning to glare back at him, and finally saw him for the first time. 

 

The flesh around his right eye was grotesque colors of yellow and greens, the bruising faded from when she had punched him earlier that week. She stifled a laugh.  _ That's what this was about! It all became clear! He was still bent out of shape after she had slugged him a good one. But really? This was his payback? Hair pulling and making her leave the library? _ Her mouth opened, and her face screwed up, she would have let out a bark of laughter, if she wasn't still silenced. 

 

Draco's face grew red with anger as he watched Hermione practically double over with silent mirth.

 

“You think you're so fucking funny?!” His quiet voice was laced with venom. 

 

Draco struck out, seeker reflexes having him move far too quickly for her to grasp the situation, until she felt the back of his hand smack her squarely across the cheek. Her eyes widened incredulously, her own hand coming to rest on the stinging cheek as tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She stumbled back away from him, the backs of her legs hitting the table behind her as she stared at him. 

 

Draco took in her stunned expression, all the laughter gone, replaced by… was that fear? Yes, fear. He much rather preferred the look of fear in her eyes. He stepped forward, wand still aimed at her, mere inches separating their bodies. His storm cloud gray eyes glaring daggers at her. 

 

“I said, the easy way or the hard way,  mudblood.” 

 

It wasn't that he struck her hard. Far from it… he just wanted to get her attention, which he thinks he has now. A smirk crossed his pointed features, as she lowered her hand from the offended cheek. She sucked in a deep breath of air through her nose, blew out from her mouth and set her jaw. 

 

Her hands came up, pushing against his chest and removing him from her personal space.  She turned to leave the library. To hell with her wand, she'd get it back after she told Professor Mcgonagall all about this incident.  _ This assholes thinks he can get away with this?! _

 

She rounded the end cap to one of the long aisles, still silenced, but fuming nonetheless.  _ Draco Malfoy thinks he can get away with putting his hands on me?! How dare he!  _

 

Draco followed behind her, smirk still plastered on his face as he watched her exit the library. She thought she was getting away, he laughed internally, shaking his head.  _ Stupid mudblood _ . 

 

She walked faster down the corridor, only a few steps from the flight of stairs that would take her to the office she was seeking. 

 

Malfoy swapped wands, tucking Hermione's wand into his pocket and pulled out his own. He wanted the familiarity of his own wand for the next step in his plan. 

 

Three long strides brought him up to Hermione, he walked behind her, much too close for her comfort now and she tried to quicken her pace still. 

 

“Imperio” 

 

Hermione slowed in her walking… a glazed expression washed over her face. 

 

“Keep walking. Past the staircase. Third door on your left.” Came Malfoy's command. 

 

Hermione did as he bade, slow steps carrying her past the now swiveling stairwell and over the threshold of the third door.  Draco followed behind closely, the door closing with a soft click. Using his wand, he locked and warded the door. 

 

Draco stepped up to the waiting Hermione, her back to him. He slid her messenger bag from her shoulder, it landed with a thud next to her. He then lifted both the silencio and imperious curse before pocketing his wand. 

 

Hermione stood, shell shocked as she took in her surroundings.  _ Where in Merlin's name?  _

 

Glancing around, she realized she was in a seldomly used classroom. Desks lined the walls, chairs pushed up against them and a teachers desk sat at what would be the head of the class. The last thing she could recall was storming through the castle, hell bent on finding Professor Mcgonagall because… Draco Malfoy! 

 

Hermione whirled around, intent on leaving the classroom and continuing her search for the teacher, when she came face to face, or face to chest as it were, with Malfoy. 

 

Taking two steps back,  Hermione looked up into the face of terror before her. 

 

“I'm glad we chose the easy way” the laughter in his voice sent a shiver of fear down her spine. 

 

Another two steps back. 

 

She swallowed thickly, fingers itching to grab hold of the wand she knew she didn't have. Her eyes darted over his shoulder to the door.  _ Could I make a run for it?  _

 

Draco took one step forward, eyes still fixed on her and watched as she looked ready to run. He knew what she was thinking. And he would let her get to the door.

 

As Draco took one more step toward her, Hermione side stepped him, bolting straight for the door. He turned lazily, smiling as he watched her reach it. Watched as she wrenched at the doorknob in a futile attempt at escape. He approached her, once again his front to her back and as Hermione turned around to face him, he grabbed her. 

 

His strong hands slammed against her shoulders, pressing her body flush against the wood. The back of her head hit the door with a resounding crack, and she cried out in pain. It was then she realized she was no longer silenced, but still in a horrible position. His hand moving swiftly down her arms to pin her hands to her sides. He leered into her face, malicious intent written all over his eyes. 

 

“Pl.. Please… Malfoy,  just let me go. You don't have to do this… whatever this is, you don't have to.” she pleaded. Seeing stars for a second time that day, she struggled in his grasp but he kept her arms pinned down. 

 

“You're right mudblood, I don't have to. I  _ want _ to.” 

 

As though she were a deer caught in headlights,  Hermione stopped moving and just stared at him.

 

“You… you want to? Want to what, exactly?” Fear filled her eyes, her voice heavy with unshed tears. “I'm s.. I'm sorry” she blundered on. 

 

“Sorry for what?” He licked his lips, his face still just inches from hers. 

 

“Sorry for hitting you” her eyes closed, face scrunched up and she turned her head to the side. She couldn't stand to look at the hate in his stare. “And… and for anything else, Malfoy, please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone, not even Harry or Ron.. just plea-” her voice faltered.  

 

Draco was pushing himself against her, yanking at her arms, raising them above her head. One large hand securing her wrists to the door behind her. 

 

Hermione sobbed quietly, eyes opening, she looked up at him. 

 

“Alright, alright Malfoy, you've scared me enough. It's done. You made your point!” 

 

“Can't you just shut up?!” He bellowed, bringing his face closer still. “Just shut the fuck up!” Malfoy was stuck. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. He just wanted to scare her. A little payback for the stunt she pulled. A little fear in her eyes in retaliation for her hitting him. He caught her unawares in the library, and wanted to rough her up a bit.. but now that he was here - he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing. He just knew he didn't want to stop. She squirmed in his grasp, and being this close to her, he could feel every inch of her moving under him. He lifted his knee, pressing it between her legs, one hand grasping her hip. 

 

Hermione was shocked into silence once more. She swallowed thickly, pinned between the wall and Malfoy, wandless and terrified. She felt his leg move between hers and a sob tore from her throat.  _ Oh Gods, what is he doing. Please.. please… lets me go _ . The words swam through her mind, though she didn't dare speak them. A tear slipped free, terror holding her in place. 

 

Draco leaned his head down. His forehead coming to rest on hers. He inhaled deeply, dragging her scent through his senses, taking in the flowery, feminine flavor that was Hermione. He let out a groan, his cock twitching in his pants.  _ What the fuck are you playing at Draco?  _ He thought to himself.  _ A fucking mudblood?  _

 

The hand that gripped her hip squeezed tighter. He licked his lips again and opened his eyes to stare into the caramel colored eyes of Hermione Granger, mudblood extraordinaire. 

 

Hermione didn't know what to do. Her wrists hurt from where he was pinning her, her legs held open from the knee against her most intimate area and his forehead was pushed firmly against hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she silently prayed to whatever deity that was listening to help her. She was truly. Powerless,  horrified. 

 

Draco pulled the hand from her hip,  extracted his wand and while staring into her eyes he whispered a sticking charm to her hands. She looked on in horror,  her whole body completely consumed by him. He left no space for her to even breath, because all she could smell, could taste was him, his cologne, his musky masculine scent and it made her want to hurl. He pocketed the wand again, and she started to shake her head no. 

 

“Please... just stop. Please.” Her voice was quiet, even to herself. 

 

“I told you mudblood, I don't  _ want _ to stop” he breathed into her face. 

 

He replaced the hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him,  riding her harder onto his knee, while the other gripped her chin tightly, holding her head still. He removed his forehead from hers, though he didn't pull his face away. Instead, he turned her face to the side and ran his tongue along the tracks of of her tears. 

 

“I can taste your fear Hermione” he whispered into her ear. The first time he had ever said her give name, and he quite liked the taste of it on his lips… almost as much as he liked the taste of her tears. She gave a shutter of revulsion as he continued. “I wonder what else I could taste on you.”  

 

“What? Taste what Malfoy? What are you doing?!” Hermione's voice rose with her anger. She was Hermione Granger! She'd been in worse situations, she could figure this one out!

 

Draco chuckled in her ear, a mirthless sound that had her ready to vomit. 

 

“I think you know what i'm talking about” the hand gripping her hip moved, trailed across her lower abdomen and he palmed the mound at the apex of her thighs. Her eyes widened and Hermione twisted her torso to try to get away. Her hands were stuck above her head, but she could still kick at him and that is what she intended to do. She brought her knees up, now hanging by the sticking charm only, and while it hurt like hell on her wrists, she pushed her knees forward, slamming Draco right in the stomach 

 

Draco stumbled backward, hands grabbing his gut as he doubled forward, the wind having been knocked out of him.  She had a triumphant look on her face as she watched him pant for breath. 

 

“I don't know what's gotten into you Malfoy, but let me go! Now! We are done here!” 

 

“Fucking bitch!” He snarled, gaining his composure, but still panting slightly and stood to his full height. He towered over her 5'2 frame, and she shrunk back a little on herself.  Her previous bravado gone with the wind as she realized that all she did was anger him. She was still pinned to the door, in a locked and warded room, wandless and scared. The tears from earlier may have dried a bit with her anger, but more threatened to spill over as he stalked closer to her. 

 

Wand back in his hands again, Draco pointed it at Hermione and released the sticking charms holding her wrists. She wasn't ready for it and fell forward, landing in a slump on her knees before him. Her arms felt fatigued from being held up so long.  _ Gods, how long have we been in here?  _

 

Draco stood before her kneeling form and used one shiny shoe to push her backwards. She flopped onto her back, her hands trying to brace her fall and failing miserably. Draco was on her in seconds, his whole body smothering hers, using his legs to pin hers down and his hands to pull her arms back up in that horrible position once again.  

 

Hermione cried out in pain, tried in vain to push him off of her, but soon found herself trapped in a very compromising position.  

 

Quick wand flourishes had her arms pinned once more and soon her legs followed suit. She was spread eagle before him and trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

 

Hermione screamed for him to stop, yelled out in frustration and fear and with the hopes that someone, anyone might hear them and help her!  

 

“No one can hear you!” Malfoy swung again, smacking the squirming Hermione across her face once more, this time harder than the last. “How do you like it?!” He hollered at her, watching her face whip to the side. “Doesn't feel so fucking good, does it, Mudblood?!” He was yelling in her face now, spitting as he did so. She cowered in fear, trying with all her might to pull at the sticking charm. 

 

“I'm sorry Malfoy! Please! I'm sorry!” She screamed, fat salty drops trailing from her eyes continuously, dampening the hair beneath her. “Just stop, please!” 

 

There was no stopping now. Malfoy knew where this was going and by the look in her eye, Hermione knew too. 

 

He stood up quickly. Shoes and socks toed off, slacks unbuckled and yanked down with his underwear.  He ripped the jumper off and soon his shirt followed. He stood before Hermione, naked as the day he was born. 

 

She had turned her head to the side, closing her eyes shut and sobbed in earnest now, terrified at what he would do next.  Draco knelt beside her, his hardening cock bobbing as he did so and pulled her shirt and jumper up her torso, baring her bra clad chest to him. He ripped at the flimsy material, tearing it at the center and it fell to either side of her chest. Involuntarily she pulled at her wrists in an attempt to cover herself and Draco laughed.  

 

His large hands grabbed at her small but supple breast, pinching and twisting her pink nipples, trying to entice a reaction from her, but none came. Her body shook in fear, her eyes still clenched tight while crying and hiccups fell from her throat. Draco leaned forward, one hand still played with her right tit as his mouth latched onto the left. He suckled hard on her nipple, teeth pinching the tip of it and Hermione let out a wail of displeasure.  She soon began begging again for him to stop, before it goes too far. 

 

She could feel his laugh, feel his smirk against her as he continued his assault on her chest. “Please, Don't do this! You don't have to do this!” she cried. But he was too far gone. 

 

The sound of her crying, begging, caused his cock to swell, blood rushing south and he groaned once more as it brushed against her when he leaned to attach his mouth to her other tit. He was rough, pinching and pulling, rolling the nipple between his calloused fingers while his whole mouth covered her other breast. He sucked hard on it, biting into it and rasping his tongue over the flesh. 

 

Hermione bit down on her lip, trying to feel anything else than what he was doing to her. She let out a sigh of relief when he removed himself from her chest, though it was short lived as he quickly straddled her. His legs falling on either side of her chest, his cock just inches from her face. 

 

“Open your mouth Hermione” she refused. She never thought her name could sound so disgusting, but as it fell from his lips, she wanted nothing more than to change it. 

 

His hand gripped her chin, turning her face towards his.  

 

“Do as you're told mudblood!” His fingers dug into her cheeks and she yelped in pain. He pushed forward with his hips, his aching balls slapping her chin while his cock slid into her opened mouth. Hermione coughed at the sensation, trying to push him from her mouth with her tongue.  She tried to shake her head, but his grip was firm and the more she moved, the tighter he squeezed her jaw. 

 

“That's a good mudblood.” he crooned, pushing in and out of her mouth, as though he was fucking her cunt. “Suck my dick, you dirty little whore. I know you like this… you want this. You suck all the cocks in the Gryffindor tower, don't you? Fucking slut.” He punctuated the final word with a particularly sharp thrust of his hips and Hermione gagged on his length as it hit the back of her throat. Her teeth bit down slightly and caused Draco growl, swinging his hand down to smack her once more. 

 

“Bite my cock and I get to bite you! Got it?” 

 

Hermione nodded solemnly, tears tracking down her face as she laid slack jawed and allowed Draco to pump in and out her mouth.  _ If this was the worst he did _ , Hermione thought,  _ it would be fine and she could get out of the situation relatively unscathed _ . 

 

He grunted with the effort it took to fuck her face in this position, sliding in and out of her mouth with ease as she salivated all over him. At times he'd grip her hair with his hands, pushing so far down her throat he could see the bulge of his dick in her throat. She couldn't breath and gagged around his member, causing her throat to constrict tightly. When he withdrew from her throat, strings of saliva trailed off his cock and dribbled onto her face. She was disgusted, absolutely mortified and just wanted this to be done. 

 

He pulled his cock from her throat one final time and scooted down her body. Now straddling her knees, as Hermione gasped for air. She looked down her torso at him, shaking her head no at whatever he had planned next. 

 

“Please, no.” She whispered,  voice cracking as more crying threatened to consume her. 

 

“No?” Draco flicked open the button of her jeans. “I don't think you're in any position to tell me no, Mudblood” his hand lazily stroked his dick, up and down, spreading her spit and his precum along the length of it. 

 

“Please… Malfoy, not that. Anything but that..  please.” She begged, fresh tears falling from her eyes. 

 

“A little prude there, are ya?” He smirked.  

 

“Prude?! I've never even kissed a boy! And here you are raping me! And you think I'm a prude?!” Hermione shrieked.  

 

“Never kissed a boy, huh? So no one's ever touched you here?” His fingers pinched at her nipples again. 

 

Hermione shook her head no, biting her lip once more. 

 

“Or here then?” He trailed down her torso, fingers prodding at the juncture between her thighs.  

 

Hermione jolted, quickly closing her eyes and shaking her head. “N.. no Malfoy. Please don't take that from me.” She whispered. 

 

Draco smirked again.  _ Maybe now wasn't the time for that… but there was always next time, wasn't there?  _

 

“I'll make a deal with you Granger.” He spoke matter of factly, sliding back up her torso now straddling her waist. “I won't  _ take that _ ” he drawled sarcastically. “Not today anyway” her eyes flew open at his words. “Or maybe not ever, if you give me a proper blow job right now.”

 

Hermione weighed her options. If she sucked him off willingly, he'd leave her virginity intact, or so he said. But if she continued resisting, he'd take it anyway. The choice was clear in her mind. 

 

“Okay” she said. 

 

Draco lifted a pale, slender eyebrow at her. “Okay? Okay what Hermione?” 

 

She swallowed.  “I'll bring you off with my mouth.” She blushed at the words, her face turning scarlet as she quickly looked away from him. 

 

“Fine then” he grinned. His nimble fingers pinching her nipples once more before he rose up and off her. He pulled his wand from his pocket, and aimed it at her, releasing her from the charms that bound her. 

 

“Take off your shirt and get on your knees bitch.” He twirled the wand between his fingers.  

 

Hermione slowly lowered her arms and closed her legs. Her whole body stiff from the position he held her in for so long. She tugged the shirt and jumper over her head and pulled the tattered bra off, leaving her chest naked, as instructed. Next, she got to her knees, head lowered in shame. 

 

“Come here.” He demanded, and Hermione obliged, scooting closer to him. She knelt before him, not daring to make eye contact. His cock rock hard and ready for action, and she sat before him, waiting for the next command. 

 

“Open your eyes mudblood, I want you to look at me while I come down your throat”

 

She lifted her head, red rimmed eyes staring up at her captor, a grimace crossing her features as she listened to his words. She supposed coming down her throat would be better than coming in her pussy, though she would have preferred none of it happened at all. 

 

Hermione opened her mouth and kept eye contact with him as he surged forward. His fingers once again wove their way through her brown curly locks as he held her head in place and started pumping in and out of her mouth.  

 

“Moan Hermione.” again, she hated the sound of her name on his lips as he pressed deeper into her mouth, but she did as he asked, soft vibrations coming from her throat. 

 

One hand left her hair to squeeze her breast, fondling the sensitive tissue and pinching gently at her nipples. He wasn't hurting her, but the sensation was still unwanted. She closed her eyes at the feeling - tears leaking from her lashes. 

 

Draco pulled at her hair roughly, tilting her head back some as he continued pounding. “Open your eyes and look at me!” She did as she was told. 

 

He bucked in and out of her wildly, hips snapping forward with jerky movements as he came near to emptying his sac in her throat. 

 

She received no warning when he finally came.  He just pushed forward into her throat, and she thought she'd vomit as she felt him drain his seed into her. Gagging on the salty taste, she almost hurled when it spewed out of her nose and the sides of her mouth. Her hands reaching forward and grabbing his thighs to brace herself. Her nails bit into his flesh, but he didn’t notice, or maybe he liked it as Draco moaned with the pleasure coursing through him, his gravelly voice demanding that she swallow all of it. 

 

She tried to swallow, but he was so far down her throat it was almost impossible to do so. The tang of his come coated her palate and Hermione cried out softly as he slipped free of her mouth. 

 

When he finally released her bruised chest and aching head, she fell backwards gasping for breath. She scuttled backwards, all legs and arms moving as quickly as they would allow her, panting for breath and still swallowing the disgusting taste of Draco Malfoy.  He looked down at her, grinning from ear to ear.  His hand rubbing at his flat, toned stomach and he sighed in contentment as though he just finished a fantastic meal. The cat that got the canary. She wanted to smack the look off of his face.   

 

“See, Mudblood, that wasn't so bad now was it?” he gave her a contemptuous smirk. 

 

She said nothing.  Head hung low in shame, she just wished this day would be over.  She heard him whisper “reparo”, her wand pointed at her bra and it stitched itself back together. 

 

“Get dressed and get over there.” He too was getting dressed. Pulling his pants up over his hips and reaching for his fallen jumper. He pulled on his socks and slipped back into his shoes. He ran his fingers through his hair and wiped the sweat off his brow. 

 

Hermione stood on wobbly legs, one arm covering her chest while the other hand reached out to her bra. Draco laughed at this show of modesty. “Really mudblood, I've already seen it. No need to be shy.” He was twirling her wand between his fingers again.

 

She shot him a tearful glare, pulling her clothing back onto her sore body. Draco picked up her bag and put it on a desk. He turned back to Hermione and motioned towards the chair next to it. 

 

“Sit down mudblood.” 

 

She did. 

 

“Imperio” 

 

Her eyes glazed over once more. He looked at her red rimmed eyes, the handprint on her face and knew without a doubt there would be bruising on her chest.  _ This won't do,  _ Draco thought, and brandishing his own wand, he performed a few bits of magic, a couple of simple healing charms to rid her of any evidence of what occurred this evening. 

 

“Pull out your books and start studying something.” 

 

Hermione, compelled by the curse, obliged, doing exactly as he commanded.  

 

“You'll stay in here for the next fifteen minutes. Once that time is up, you'll leave this classroom and go straight to her dorm.” 

 

Hermione nodded, quill already in hand, bent over the desk to work on some extra credit work. 

 

Draco stepped behind her, no longer in her line of sight. Wand pointed at the back of her, he whispered “obliviate”. 

 

Hermione continued working, unaware that anyone was in the empty classroom with her. Her crying stopped, her sniffles gone. She looked as though nothing happened to her. He smiled to himself.  Draco turned on his heel, unlocking and opening the door. He slipped through, quiet as a mouse and released Hermione from the imperious curse.  _ Until next time mudblood.  _ The door clicked shut behind him. 

 

Like clockwork, her gaze snapped up from the roll of parchment before her, 15 minutes later.  She glanced around herself, quizzical expression dawning her features.  _ What in the world am I doing here?  _ She smacked her lips a bit … an awful taste in her mouth had her wrinkling her nose in disgust.  _ Bleh! What did I eat for lunch? _

 

A flick of her wand had floating numbers appear, revealing it to be almost half past nine in the evening, and as though on cue,  her stomach growled and she moaned as she realized she missed dinner. Shaking her head, she stood and began packing her bag.  _ Might as well call it a night _ . For reasons unbeknownst to her, Hermione's body ached as she slowly crossed the empty classroom.   _ Must've fallen asleep on the books again _ , she thought to herself, lifting her arms over her head to stretch. As she lowered her sore arms, she caught sight of a piece of fabric on the floor near the door. She bent to retrieve the fallen item, lifted it up and shook it out. It was a white button down shirt.  _ How strange…  _

 

Upon further inspection, it was a male shirt. It wasn't dusty or old,  like everything else in this classroom. It was still warm to touch and clean as though pressed recently. Not really sure why… she lifted the article of clothing to her face and breathed deeply. The scent .. she couldn’t place it, but it was familiar to her. It smelled of a man's cologne, and a rather expensive one if the rich, clinging spice was anything to go by. She draped the shirt over her arm, pocketed her wand and left the classroom.  

 

* * *

  
  
  


It was a little while later that Hermione was in her dormitory, having pushed through the crowded common room and made her excuses to Harry and Ron that she was tired. The dorms were mercifully empty, and she was ready to just pass out. She was tired, like she ran a marathon tired,  but didn't know why. Her legs ached, her arms were sore - especially when she raised them any higher than her shoulders and her head was throbbing. It hadn’t hurt this bad sense she spent the afternoon crying in the girls lavatory back in first year. She pulled her jumper and t-shirt over her head, now standing in just her bra and walked over to the full length mirror. She stood there, taking in her reflection, looking for any signs of illness. She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue and looked inside -  _ Man! Even my jaw hurts!  _ She pulled the tie loose from her ponytail, her hair, naturally a mess, but was slightly damp at the nape of it, like she was sweating at some point. 

 

With her hair falling down around her shoulders, she looked at the rest of herself. Lifted her arms above her head and winced at the pain in them. She reached back to unclasp her bra, it felt different today - it sat strange on her chest.  _ Huh, maybe it’s time to invest in newer bras. _ She flung it onto her bed. She continued examining herself, trailing her fingers across her flat stomach, up her torso to her chest. As her hands grazed over the flesh of her chest, they felt extra sensitive.  _ Maybe it’s that time of month? _

Hermione shook the thought from her head, no, she had just finished it a week ago. No reason for there to be an ache or sensitivity in her chest.  _ Something is off… Maybe a good night sleep is in order. If I still feel bad tomorrow, I’ll see Madame Pomfrey.  _

Her hands went to the waistband of her jeans, attempting to unbutton them, though they were already undone. She flushed red.  _ Have I been walking around with my pants undone all day?  _

She bit her lip ..  _ that doesn’t make sense. I would have noticed …  _

 

She shook her head - discarding her clothing and putting on fresh pajamas. “I just need to sleep.” She spoke into the empty dorm room. 

 

Hermione walked to her bed, taking her clothing and her bag off of it and stashing them in her trunk. She crawled onto it and pulled the curtains closed. She sat on top of the covers, though she was exhausted, her brain was going a million miles a minute trying to piece together this afternoon. How strange it was that she used an empty classroom instead of the library - and whose shirt was that on the floor? Still clean and smelling of cologne, as though is was taken off only a little while before. Why was she so sore, and as minor as it was, the fact that her pants her unbuttoned was really weighing on her. Hermione bit her lip, mulling all of these things over …  _ what am I missing?  _

 

She poked her head out of her curtains at the foot of her bed. There, on top of her trunk was the shirt. She grabbed it and scooted back up her bed. She shook it out once more and looked at it. It was inside out - like it had been pulled off and thrown on the floor in a hurry. She turned it right side in and examined it closely. It was a nice shirt, high fabric count, soft to the touch - and looked customly hemmed. Not just an average shirt from one of the shops in Diagon Alley.  _ Why would anyone leave this shirt laying around? _ She smelled it again.  _ Gods, she knew that smell. Who does it smell like? She thought hard - this was nothing Ron or Harry would own, but what other male had she been close enough to smell like that?  _

 

Hermione shook her head to clear it and  tossed the shirt to the foot of her bed. No sense in racking her brain over it now. She needed sleep. She scooted under her covers, head resting on the fluffy pillow and comforter pulled all the way up to her shoulders. Sleep took her quickly.

* * *

 

 

Draco watched as Hermione walked into the dining hall the next morning. He woke up and dressed early, made his way up to the Great Hall while it was still practically empty just so he wouldn't miss her. He knew she was an early riser as well and was correct in assuming she'd grab breakfast before the hall filled with too many people. 

 

He bit into a ripe green apple with a crunch, his slate stare watching as she gingerly walked toward the Gryffindor table. She was alone this morning, he wondered why. He noticed her gait was different, her usual confident and long strides stilted with a bit of a limp, as though it hurt. He smirked to himself.  _ Maybe he was a little rough with her last night,  _ he contemplated,  _ or maybe not rough enough… he left her intact and that just would not do.  _

 

Another crunch echoed in the cavernous hall, this time catching her attention and Hermione turned to look at the Slytherin table. 

 

Gray eyes met brown.

She laughed. He saw red. He knew what she was laughing at. His eye still healing from when she punched him earlier that week.   _ Definitely not rough enough _ , he decided with a sneer. 

 

She turned her back on him and sat down. Not bothering to glance back again. 

 

Draco didn't get what he wanted.  He thought he might see her weak again this morning. Scared for reasons she wouldn't understand. What a rush it was to have her cowering and shaking beneath him. His pants tightening even now as he thought about it. Thought about her inexperienced throat gagging on his dick, remembered the taste of her tears, relished the terrified way she shook when she thought he was going to take her.  He should have fucked her, should have filled every hole with his cum. Should have had her screaming in pain and begging for mercy. Fucking mudblood. Disgusting waste of space. He wasn't done with her. Far from it. He was just getting started. That little cunt was going to pay and he had a whole summer to make sure she did. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Stalking His Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your amazing comments and kudos. It's the only reason I'm going to keep this going.   
> Fair warning, this chapter is much, much shorter than the last, but at least it's up quick, right?   
> Again, no beta. I can't have anyone proof read my twisted thoughts before I upload them or I'll chicken out. Sorry for typos and whatever else.   
> Oh, yeah, I own nothing - obviously, J.K.R. owns all and I'm just using her lovely world to play out sick and twisted fantasies in. Hope you enjoy!

Being a Malfoy came with it’s perks. One of which was quite useful in his plans to making Granger suffer over the summer, and that was the connections he had at the ministry. It was none too difficult to get the Granger’s address. And now, just two weeks into the summer holiday, Draco found himself disillusioned and standing outside her bedroom window. The night was cool around him, the temperature dropping several degrees from the sweltering heat of the June afternoon.  

 

The Granger’s home was a modest one. Nothing like the ostentatious manor that he grew up in. While his home boasted three separate wings, dozens of guest rooms and bathrooms, a ladies parlor, indoor pool and spa area as well as a library to rival the one at Hogwarts … Granger’s place was a quaint one story modern house. A garden in the front, and yard in the back, three, maybe four bedrooms - a living room, dining room and decent sized kitchen. All of this intel was gathered earlier in the day, as Malfoy stalked the house while the Granger's were out that afternoon. Hermione's room faced the backyard, her window hangings sheer enough to see through, and he gave a triumphant woop upon discovering this fact. 

 

Draco watched as a freshly showered Hermione traipsed back into her bedroom, her hair wrapped up in a white towel , with a fluffy purple bathrobe pulled tight around her. He could imagine her smell, had thought about it many times sense that night a few weeks ago. The flowery, almost lavender scent that clung to her would be so strong now and Draco breathed deeply, as if trying to capture through the window pane. She closed the door behind her and stood before a vanity, a while little desk with a large ornate mirror sitting atop of it. In front of it was a white, wrought iron chair that boasted a cushion for a seat.  She tugged at the towel so her brown curls fell in wet ringlets down her back and tilted her head to the side, allowing her hair to fall in a pseudo curtain from her head. She used that white towel to squeeze the excess moisture from her, drying bits of it at a time. 

 

Draco stood, rooted to the spot, mouth agape as he watched her run her fingers through her hair next, combing through the damp strands. His tongue darted out to wet his lips … recalling how it felt to have his fingers firmly tugging at her brown locks while she choked on him. The wetness in her hair bringing him back a time when it was tears that soaked the strands beneath her. He grinned to himself. 

 

Once finished with her hair, She draped the towel over the chair before her and grabbed a bottle of lotion from her desk. She pumped the white, thick cream into her hand and lifted a leg onto the chair. Her back was to the window, and she faced the mirror, looking herself over and she applied the cream to her leg. Draco watched as she bent slightly, her robe parting at her chest - little peaks of the treasure beyond. With her leg lifted onto the chair it gave an unobstructed view of her upper thigh and Draco stared, willing her to lift the robe higher. She did not disappoint, smearing the lotion further up her leg, bringing the robe up with her. He thought if he looked hard enough, he'd be able to see her pink fleshy lips between her smooth thighs. He regretted not taking her when he had the chance. He showed mercy and that just would not do. No, next time would be different. 

 

Hermione soon dropped her leg and then raised the next. She made quick work of lotioning that one too and with another pump of the cream into her hand she started to work on her neck. She massaged the cream into her shoulders, then a bit lower, bringing the robe down with her as she went. He waiting with baited breath, wanting to see those pert little titties once more. 

 

She pulled the robe down further still, and now it hung at her waist where it was cinched tight around her. Her chest was on full display for her unknown audience and he had to stifle a groan as he quickly undid his pants. His cock springing free and Draco grabbed hold of himself. He rubbed slow strokes up and down his length as he watched Hermione lotion her shoulders, and arms. 

 

“Touch yourself” he moaned. 

 

Her nimble fingers worked the lotion into her skin, trailing over her collar bone and lower.  Draco pumped harder. She smoothed her hands south, bringing them to her breast finally.  Methodical though she was, Draco pumped faster still, his balls tightening, his cock swelling, watching as she worked the cream into her skin. Her hands left her breast, now down to her stomach and Draco closed his eyes. He remembered the feeling of straddling that waist while pinching the titties she was just lotioning. He pulled in a breath and held it, squeezed his hand tighter and thrust into his palm. He pictured her scared look, her tears, the redness of her breast as he smacked, pinched and squeezed them. His release came quickly upon envisioning the terror in her eyes. It wasn't the first time he rubbed one off thinking of that night, but hopefully he would have new mental material to work with, and soon. His semen splattered along the bushes in front of her window and Draco quickly righted himself. By the time he looked back into her window, Hermione had donned a pair of little worn shorts and a ratty t-shirt, looking as though she was ready to crawl into bed. 

 

Draco cleared his throat softly. He stepped back from the window slowly, and he soundlessly mounted his broom and took flight. His thoughts only on the mudblood. He had to be careful… too many mind modifications in a short period would leave her suspicious of the lapses in time she would experience. He had to find a way around that. He would need to formulate a plan before he came back, because as sure as his name was Draco Malfoy, he would be back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is SO short, but It just came to me and I wanted to update the story, as per your requests. Yes, Story ... cause I think I'm going to continue this. Maybe five chapters? I don't know, I'll see where it takes me. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments are mucho appreciated and the reason why I would continue. 
> 
> Kudos are amazeballs as well. 
> 
> Thanks for not being grossed out by it - and if you are, thanks for keeping it to yourself. Hahahaha.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next installment. Sorry for the delay, life got in the way.  
> Again - Trigger Warnings! Nothing is butterflies and rainbows here.  
> I own nothing - JKR has it all baby!  
> Also - No beta - I'm too embarrassed for that, if you see a typo, wanna let me know?  
> Lastly, I hope this is understandable, the way I did it. The fonts and stuff .. And if it's not, let me know and I'll fix it - though, I'm not sure how I would fix it. lol.  
> Enjoy!

It was two weeks later that Draco found himself in the same position outside of Hermione’s window. This time, he came prepared, pockets ladened with all sorts of “goodies” to make this night go according to plan. He had thought long and hard on the matter, wanting to have his way with her, instill the fear in her eyes and relish in her pain. But he wanted her to remember … he wanted her to skirt around him at Hogwarts their following year. Wanted her to be terrified of walking the halls by herself, knowing that at any moment Draco could make her worst nightmares come true. He touched the pocket containing the potions he acquired from Borgin and Burkes, as he had done twice sense standing there, half expecting them to disappear. There were two ampules in total. Dark artifacts weren’t the only thing you could pick up in that store, after-all. While his right pocket contained a few things he’d swiped from his father’s study. Who knew the elder Malfoy was into BDSM, for what other reason would he have the bright red ball gag and the black flogger? Draco made some adjustments to them before stuffing them into his pockets and taking off for the night.

 

Hermione’s routine was the same … fresh from the shower, towel dry her hair, finger comb through it, application of the lotion that he bet smelled like lavender and finally, old tiny shorts and an over-sized shirt. The light switched off and Draco waited.

 

He glanced at his pocket watch. It had been an hour sense the room had gone dark, surely she was asleep by now. Bless the gods for muggle suburbia, Draco thought to himself as he opened the unlocked single hung window slowly. A warm summer breeze blew at the silky curtains and Draco climbed through. His pristine shoes landed on Hermione's soft carpeted floor silently and Draco took in his surroundings. He rolled his eyes at the sight before him while wandlessly casting both a quieting and locking charms on the door. Paisley painted walls held bookshelves that were so full it was a wonder they hadn't been held up by magic. The little white vanity that Draco had seen her lotioning herself at just moments before. Two bedside tables and between them was Hermione's twin size bed, fitted with a patchwork quilt and beige colored sheets. He quickly scanned those bedside tables to find and pocket her wand.

 

That quilt was pulled up to her chin, Hermione nestled herself snug as a bug in a rug on an oversized pillow with her still damp hair fanned out around her. She looked like his wet dreams come true, there and ready for the taking. Three slow steps brought him to her bedside, his hand dipping into his pocket to retrieve the first of the two potions she was to consume.

 

Draco's slender fingers pulled the bottle from his pocket, and uncorked the small vial as he neared her still. One hand pinched her nose shut while the other poised the phial just so over her lips. Hermione's eyes flew open at the feel of the hand, her mouth agape as she gasped for breath. It was then that Draco tilted the contents of the tube into her open mouth and then covered both mouth and nose until she swallowed down the potion. Her eyes were alight with fear, hands quickly scrabbling to grab at the arm holding her face and blocking her airways. It was clear when she swallowed some of the potion, as her eyes took on a dreamy state and she fought just a little less, the concoction working as it was said to, taking her consciousness back into a dream like state.

 

He released her nose, but fear of her spitting out any of the remaining liquid kept his fingers held fast to her mouth and Hermione sucked strained streams of air through flared nostrils. Her hands clawed less at his arm as she continued swallowing the thick vile liquid. He was told that the potion combined with a simple incantation, and a bit of legilimency would have Hermione think the next few hours were a dream, and so Draco said that incantation now and cleared his mind to begin using legilimency on her.

 

Hermione's face took on a confused expression as her minds eye began to wander. Draco watched with greedy infatuation, his legilimency allowing him to see and hear everything she was thinking, and would soon be feeling…

 

_Where am I?! She wondered in her head as she looked around her… the Forest of Dean?  The trees so thick together here, their canopies so high, she doubted she could be anywhere else. It was exactly as she remembered it when she went camping with her family a few summers back. But… She was just in her bed though… and was that a hand clamped over her face? What was that foul taste? She spat out at the thought of it, running her tongue along her teeth as though to cleanse them. Hermione took a few steps in the direction of the river,  A gulp of water to wash out her mouth._

 

_It wasn't until her bare toes had reached the muddy bank that she realized she was still in her pajamas. Her toes squelched in the mud, and she stepped further into the water, allowing the cool shallow depths to wash over her now dirty feet. She was ankle deep when she heard it ... a low masculine chuckle that took her by surprise. "Dad?" She called out, head turning this way and that looking for the source of the sound "Harry? Ron?"._

 

_No answer came._

 

_A trick of the wind, the thought was fleeting and foreign, as if planted in her mind, but was enough to dissuade her concern. Hermione bent at the waist , gathering hands full of the clear water and brought it to her mouth, swishing it around before spitting it back into the river. She was doubled over once more, pooling more water in her palms when she heard the crack of a twig._

 

_Hermione whirled on the spot, water splashing up as she did so, her hand reaching for a pocket she wasn't wearing, to grab a wand she didn't possess. Her gaze fell on him then,  and her scared expression quickly melted into anger as she took in the sight of Draco Malfoy._

 

_"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Her voice dripping with the contempt she felt for him._  

_"Just out for a stroll" his trademark smirk plastered firmly on his pointed features. "What are you doing here, mudblood?"_

  _Hermione puffed herself up to her fullest height, fists clenched at her sides as she took a step closer to the bank._

 

_"Camping with my parents, who by the way are right over there." She injected her voice with a bravado she did not feel… were her parents really just over there? Hermione couldn't remember coming here with them. Didn't remember seeing them before she walked over to the river. How did she even get here? Concern laced her thoughts once more as she remembered the feel of a hand clamped over her face mere moments ago…_

 

_Draco couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he listened to the warring thoughts in her head. His grin chilled her to the bone but it was the voice in her head, that alien voice she heard earlier, urging her to run that had her splashing out of the water and up the muddy riverbank. Something about the look in his eyes terrified her, had images of her pinned against a wooden door flashing through her vision. She thought she could feel the unyielding surface against her back... could feel the slap of a hand across her face...  could hear him whisper her name. Run Hermione, the voice said again, this time more fervent than the last. And she did. Hermione ran for all she was worth, though she felt like she wasn't getting anywhere. That dark chuckle could be heard again and she dared a glance behind her, saw him stalk after her. She looked forward again, just in time to be smacked in the face by a low hanging bough and thrown backwards at the force of it._

 

Draco sat perched on the bed, watching as her body twitched with the effort to run. Still deep within her mind, he watched the scene play out before him, her hauling ass to get away from him, this urgency coming from his whispered commands in her ear. Watched as she turned back to see him and laughed when she realized she'd not gone far enough. The smack across her face felt good, her head whipping to the side and her body jerking within the bed she still lay.

 

_Hermione was flat on her back, pain blooming in her cheek and she reached up to cradle her face. Gods, that hurt, she thought, tears springing to her eyes as she scrambled to get to her feet._

  _"Stay down" his voice was harsh as he loomed over her, feet planted firmly on either side of her body. "Stay down and shut up." Hermione tried to move, tried to kick out at him… anything to get away from him, but she felt stuck._

 

Draco yanked the sheets away from her panting body. Saw her sweat soaked shirt and tiny shorts twisted around on her torso. His smile was wide as he spoke to her "Stay down and shut up." His hands pulling her arms up, and yanking the large t-shirt over her head. Next he divested her of her shorts, leaving her in nothing but simple white cotton knickers. He'd worked on his sticking charm, able to use it wandlessly and was pleased to find her arms unable to come down in an attempt to cover herself.

 

_She tried to fight, to twist, to turn, anything to get away from him, but nothing helped.  Her t-shirt was pulled off of her, her shorts slid down her body, though no one was touching her. She cried out for it to stop, but still, nothing helped. Draco stood above her, watching as her body was revealed to him. Laughed as she attempted to pull her arms down and cover her exposed breast._

 " _What are you doing?!" She yelled, eyes wide with fear._

  _"I told you to shut up!" He growled through clenched teeth._

 

Draco withdrew the ball gag from his pocket, red shiny rubber glinting in the moonlight that streamed through the window. He lifted her head none too kindly and strapped the gag in place, her dry lips cracking around the intrusion.  

 

_Though she cried out, her voice caught in her throat, she was muffled now,  but Draco hadn't moved, hadn't touched her… what was happening? She saw no wand, didn't see his lips moving to perform any verbal magic, but still, she was rendered speechless,  degraded to muffled pants and cries._

  ** _Please_ ** _, she cried in her head, head thrashing back and forth to dislodge whatever ceased her speech._

  _Draco lowered himself over her body, fingers gripped her chin as he turned her face to his. "Please what mudblood?"_

  _Eyes wide with the realization that he heard her thoughts she tried to speak to him again._ **_Please Malfoy, let me go._ ** _Her thoughts became sobs as she cried in earnest now._

  _"You want to run?" His grin was back, his voice hungry with the thought of a chase. He was a seeker after all, and half the fun was the chase._

  ** _Just let me go… please, leave me be._ **

  _Draco stood. This could be fun, he thought to himself. He stepped back from her. "Go on mudblood. I'll give you a headstart. You've got ten seconds, but if I catch you, you're in for it. GO!" he bellowed the last word and Hermione snapped to attention. Her hands, she realized were no longer pinned and her body was jerking upward and onward. Still gagged, she couldn't understand why breathing was so hard, but her feet carried her swiftly through the wood. Eyes never leaving the front of her, she’ll not be smacked by a tree branch this time!_

 

Draco stood from the bed, silently counting backward from ten. He couldn’t stop the smile on his face as he spied her running using legilimency. This was better than he could have ever imagined. He quickly shed his clothing from his body … might as well be ready when I catch her he thought to himself.

 

“Five” He spoke aloud, knowing she would hear it too. The fear coursing through her veins sent adrenaline pumping through his, his fingers itching to grab hold of her.

 

“Four” He approached the bed once more, standing in nothing but his boxers, watching as her legs and arms twitched, her chest rose and fell with mental exertion.

 

_“Three” Her heart hammered in chest, blood pounded in her ears, the only thing louder was him counting down - slow, but not slow enough as her legs took her as fast as they could._

 

_“Two” She leaped over a downed tree, her arms pumping quickly back and forth, trying as she might to create momentum to carry her further._

 

_“One” Her eyes went wide, times up. He’ll be after me now, she panicked._

 

_Hermione careened around a tree, out of breath and out of time, crouching to keep herself low to the ground. She panted through her nose, ready to hyperventilate from lack of proper oxygen. Her fingers biting into the hard bark to keep her body from trembling - she watched and waited. Hoping with everything that she had that she’d ran far enough away that Malfoy wouldn’t be able to find her now. Silent as she could, eyes peeled and searching, she continued in the same direction, backing slowly away from the tree to behind another and another. Her heart rate slowed as she thought she might have done it, might have actually evaded Malfoy. Her steps her more sure, though her feet were killing her from running barefoot on a forest floor, she leaped from behind one tree to the next - keeping silent while still searching for any sign of him._

 

_It was like a game of cat and mouse he decided as he watched Hermione from behind. Her eyes riveted to a spot in front of her, knowing that he'd come from that direction. He stood near the tree he knew she would use next and waited, smiling wide, hands outstretched to grab hold of her._

 

_Hermione thought herself victorious as she lept from one tree to the next, though that thought quickly faded as she felt his large hands encircle her tiny waist. Her scream was muffled as she whipped around to come face to face with him again. Hands came up, clawing at his face, legs kicking and flailing as he picked her up over his shoulder and slammed her bodily back onto the ground. The wind was knocked out of her and she saw stars from where her head smacked the forest floor, but she didn't stop fighting._

 

Draco waited, watching in her mind as she came closer to him. He was back on the bed and reached out to grab her waist before her back collided with his front in her dream. He grabbed hold of her sleeping form as her legs kicked and arms swung feebly. Her body was light as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. He slammed her body onto the floor and crashed down over top of her.  

 

_Hermione felt his body cover hers, screamed in her head,_ **_Please! No! Stop!!_ ** _But it was no use. Draco was pulling at her arms, mumbling a sticking charm and grabbing at her thighs. He was without clothing and it terrified her to think what he had planned._

  _"I told you, mudblood, if I catch you, you're in for it!" He panted, struggling with her legs. Finally her legs were wide enough for his liking and he again mumbled a sticking charm to them, her ankles glued to the ground as though they too were trees and their roots grew deep. She twisted herself this way and that, trying to get him off of her. His hands, so rough, pinched at her sweaty chest, plucking at her nipples, as he lowered his head to her ear. "Remember what I said last time?" His voice was thick with lust, his erection prodding into her lower belly._ **_Last time? There was a last time?_ ** _She thought frantically. Draco laughed "I'll make a deal with you Granger…"_

  _Her mind was racing. His words provoked a memory. Again, that door… the pain… the crying…_

  _All thought was lost as she felt his teeth bite down on her ear, his words rasped between them. "I've been waiting for this Hermione" he spoke her name smooth as silk and she shuddered as she remembered the last time he said it. The feel of his tongue tracing her tears, his hand cupping her through her pants._

**_Oh gods, no … no, please, not again._ **

  _"Oh Yes, and this time, I won't leave that." Draco's fingers pulled at the waistband of her knickers yanking them from her trembling body._

 

Draco stared down at her naked form, almost hard to see in the dim light of her room. At her pink lips just begging to be fucked and filled with his cum. He wouldn't hold back this time, his cock ached to be inside her, his balls dying to empty themselves in her. But first, he wanted to touch her, to taste her.

He shimmied down her prone form, strong hands gripping her thighs and pushing them wider still. Her pussy lips opening for him to peek at her virgin core. He almost groaned aloud at the sight and smell of her, his tongue swiping from cleft to clit flat and hard against her.

 

**_No!_ ** _Hermione cried, muffled sobs bouncing off of the trees around them as he assaulted her most intimate part. She felt his breath as he moaned, hot against her core. Felt his tongue touch places she hardly touched herself. She cried aloud as his fingers held her thighs bruisingly hard, his tongue pressed harder still and circled the sensitive bud at the top of her slit._ **_Please! Stop!_ ** _She wailed in her head, trying to buck her hips, trying to get him off of her._

  _He sucked at her clit, pulling it gently between his lips, trying to get a reaction out of her, a moan before a scream, if could. His hand released one thigh and he brought his middle finger to her hole, rimming the outside of it as he spoke into her pussy._

  _"Come on mudblood, cum for me. I want to taste you. You know it feels good."_

  _She thrashed about, quickly closing the leg he released and slamming her knee into his ribs. Draco reeled backwards, grabbing at his side and growling his pain. His eyes filled with the promise of retribution._

  _"Fucking cunt!" He roared at her, reaching back and punching her face as though she was a man. She screamed around the gag, her voice still muffled, tears streaming down her face. "I tried to be nice, you bitch! Tried to have you cum first, make it fucking easier on you! And you pull this shit?!" His ranting was almost scarier than his actions, she was stunned paralyzed as he screamed himself horse._

 

Draco stared down at her still form, panting, her wide red rimmed eyes, almost the same red as the ball gag stuffed in her mouth. She wanted to be a bitch? Fine, he'll be an asshole right back. He stood quickly, yanking down his boxers, his cock springing forth, smacking his stomach. He crouched down again, using both hands to grip her thighs and as if on cue, Hermione screeched again, as though now it was serious, now there would be hell to pay.

 

He reveled in her pain, rejoiced in her screams as he aligned himself with her opening and slammed his hips forward, his cock sinking deep into her saliva soaked folds. He gripped her thighs tight to him, his dick throbbing in the heat of her tight sheath before he pulled back and slammed home again.  He watched as her eyes squeezed shut tightly, tears leaking from the corners in continuous streams while he ravaged her tight and now bleeding pussy. He pumped into her heat ruthlessly, his hips slamming into her, her thighs gripped so tightly that was sure to leave bruises.

 

_She felt as though she were being ripped in two, her vagina burned where he split her and her womb ached as he pounded into it. He gave no warning, and left no time for her to adjust to his length, just pounded mercilessly into her. She screamed around the curse he had on her, trying desperately to breath through her nose, though now it was clogged with snot from her sobbing. Maybe she would die… maybe she would suffocate on her own snot and tears and be rid of him… of this pain. Her head lulled on her shoulders, her vision becoming spotty and her screams less and less. He must've noticed because one moment Hermione was welcoming the dark clouding of her vision and the next, the curse was lifted and her mouth was involuntarily gasping for breath, filling her lungs with much needed air and she felt the pain all over again._

 

"God dammit!" He snarled, ripping the ball gag from her mouth and tossing it to the side. "I'll not be fucking a corpse today Mudblood!" He watched her suck in gulps of air, and satisfied that she wouldn't die now, continued his pounding into her. "Want it deeper, don't you, bitch?"

 

_"Please, no, no more Malfoy" she begged. He hiked her hips up higher, angling her so that his cock pressed deeper into her. Hermione cried out with each thrust, her toes curling and her tits bouncing. "You like it, don't you, bitch? You like it deeper. You want it harder?" She shook her head frantically in response, her throat failing to form words as his hips rocked into her harder still._

  _"Please! Please no more! I'm begging" she sobbed, gasping with the pain of his thrusts._

  _He grunted in time with each swing of his hips, one hand reaching to squeeze tight one of her bouncing breasts. He palmed at the soft flesh and leaned down with his face to bite at the other.  His movement less erratic now, as he was focused on nibbling on the nipple, bringing it to a point beneath his tongue. "Don't want more, you say? But you're body does" a cruel smirk played along his face as he spoke into her chest. "I bet I can make you like it… my little Gryffindor slut cumming on my cock. Hmmm?"_

 

_He slowed his movements, rocking in and out of her, allowing her walls to adjust to his intrusion. His hand releasing some pressure on her breast, gently pulling at her nipple,  twisting it softly, while his tongue grazed the other. She didn't know what was worse… the pain of him ripping her in two, or the subtle pleasure she was now experiencing with his slowed movements and near gentle caresses._

  _"Please stop" she whispered, her screams turning to pants. "I don't want this."_

 

He released his grip on her breasts, sitting back on his haunches and pulled her a little more on top of him, gliding his dick in and out of her smoothly, moistened my her virgin blood. Her bright red pussy lips called his attention, and he spread them opened, watching as his dick buried itself into her with long thick strokes, filling every inch of her slick heat with measured thrusts. His thumb coming to torment her clit as he rubbed quick and hard, practiced movements on the stiffened bud, it had her biting back the urge to moan. He watched as she squirmed beneath him, laughed to himself as her eyes flew open at the sensation and she bit her lower lip to keep from calling out.

 

_She sucked her lip between her teeth and bit down, anything to keep the pain alive and the pleasure gone. The tears that fell now were of disgust, disgust and disbelief for herself that his ministrations actually felt okay… no longer was there a searing pain in her vagina, no longer was there the ruthless knocking of her once virgin womb. It was all replaced by a subtle coiling in the pit of her stomach, a warm gush of heat in her lower area. "Please" she tried again, "please Malfoy"._

 

_His fingers against her clit had her back arching, his long slow strokes had her toes curling for a different reason. He took advantage of that arched back, slipping one arm beneath her and gathering her close to him, and for a second time in her life, Hermione was consumed by Draco. He was all she could feel, could smell, and as Draco leaned in to gently kissed the corner of her mouth - all she could taste.  She didn't kiss him back, didn't move at all. She no longer screamed, the pain was all but gone and as that coil in her stomach grew tighter and tighter her panting breath became more ragged._

 

He watched her dream in her mind's eye, watched as he took her almost lovingly on the forest floor. Felt the battle being waged in her mind between what felt good and knowing how wrong it was. This was better than the pain, he thought to himself,  better than the fear… making her feel good and knowing how she'll hate herself for it, causing confusion and conflict in Little Miss Swot's brain was almost as good as the orgasm he could feel building in his balls. "Come for me Hermione" he whispered in her ear. Fingers redoubling their efforts on her clit, he found her pulse point on her neck and sucked softly. He was rewarded with goosebumps and the feeling of her shuttering against him. He pumped a little faster into her, and wordlessly removed the sticking charms on both her arms and legs… it was a chance, he knew, but he could feel her walls closing around his cock and hoped that her orgasm was enough to keep her from fighting.

 

_Her arms were released… her legs were too, what in Morgana's name? But Gods, it felt so good.  She couldn't help her legs closing around him, didn't know why her arms encircled his neck and she clung to him. Had never felt this feeling coursing through her body before and as he quickened his pace, she braced for pain, but none came. Instead she was thrown over a precipice of pleasure, her walls closed in around him and as Draco gave a shout signaling his own release, Hermione finally let loose the wail that had been lodged in her throat. A wail of pleasure and a sob of torment. As her high slowly ebbed from her, she shattered in his embrace, sobbing uncontrollably as she felt his life seed spilling inside of her. She released her hold on him, giving into the darkness that had threatened to take her moments before, eyes closing, breath hitching until she saw nothing… felt nothing._

 

He felt her inner walls clamp around him, embraced her more firmly as she clung to him for dear life, riding the high that he had given her. He felt his sack tighten, his cock grow painfully hard before he too was thrown over the edge and came with abandon into her convulsing pussy. Her cries of pleasure quickly turned into hysteria and Draco spoke the incantation that would end this nightmare. Hermione was plunged into a fitful sleep, her body going lax beneath him and he finally released her.

 

He stood up, and examined his surroundings, pleased with what he saw. Her sheets tossed to the foot of the bed, clothing strewn across the floor, ball gag just a foot from where she lay. What a night, he thought with a grin.

He made quick work of dressing himself and a few wand flourishes later and Hermione's room was right as rain, no sign of their encounter remained. He scooped her up gently in his arms and laid her back down on the bed. Cleaned her body quickly and pulled the shirt over her head and finally her shorts back up her legs. Her knickers were stuffed into his back pocket, a souvenir for his nights work. He turned her face to the side, taking in the red and swollen look of her cheek from where he slugged her. "That won't do" he mumbled, waving his wand over her face. He brought the wand lower, over her abdomen and whispered a contraceptive charm. We don't need any Malfoy bastards running around, he thought as he pulled the second potion out of his pocket.

 

He tilted her sleeping head back, poked at her lips and much gentler than the last time, poured the potion down her throat. She swallowed with ease, no fight left in her and he lowered her chin.

 

"Until next time mudblood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo - if you liked it, kudos? Loved it - comment? Want more - tell me?  
> I'll only continue if you want me to.  
> Thanks y'all!  
> :)


	4. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ttttttrrrrrriiiiiiigggggeeeerrrrrrrssssss! Seriously. Read the tags.  
> I own nothing. Thank you JKR. (How many times do I have to say that?)  
> A filler chapter, if you will.  
> No beta. No way in hell am I having anyone proof read it. I'll chicken out.  
> If you catch a typo or something doesn't make sense - let me know please?  
> Enjoy.  
> :)

The sound of banging on the door is what stirred Hermione from the deepest sleep she'd ever known. She heard her mother's voice from the otherside "Hermione, dear, it's half past one, aren't you expected at the Weasley's by five?" More banging.

 

She groaned as she rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. Her bed sheets were twisted around her legs, shirt riding up to expose her slim back and her shorts were wedged in places that felt strangely sensitive. She stretched languidly, mouth opened wide to yawn, and noticed her lip was split, cracked and dry. She winced at the slight pain, sticking her tongue out to moisten the offending fissure.

 

More banging, "Hermione! You should have been up hours ago!" Jean Granger hollered.

 

"I'm up!" She croaked from her pillow, bringing her hands up to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Finally extracting herself from the warmth of her bed, Hermione stood on shaky legs. She pondered that fact, wondering why her legs were weak. She felt as though she'd run a mile last night in her sleep … a marathon in her dreams … "Sweet Merlin, my dream."

 

Hermione stumbled to her vanity, her legs were too weak to hold her up, she fell onto the cushioned seat. Her elbows landed with a thud on the table top, head held by her hands as she closed her eyes. Images of her dream flashing before her eyes and Hermione trembled with the weight of it on her shoulders. She did run, ran for her life … ran for her virginity … but he caught her. He caught her and he hurt her. Oh Gods, he hurt her.

 

She remembered him slamming her on the ground. She brought her hand to the back of her head, felt for a bump that was not there. Lifted her head and trailed her fingers across her face while staring at her reflection. Her fingers traveled to her mouth, slid over her split lip and remembered the feeling of being gagged. She winced once more at the tenderness of her lip. Roughly she pulled her shirt from her body, tossed it aside, and looked for any sign of the bite marks that should be there. But for as real as it felt, her bare chest gave no indication of the pinches, bites and caresses she received. She turned her head, looking at her neck, her ear, any glimpse of teeth marks he left on her skin, but again, there was nothing.

 

She stood, slowly pulled her shorts down and was shocked at her lack of knickers. She always wore them to bed … where were they now? She trailed her hands down her torso, feeling for any sign of soreness and finally reached her mound. Not sure what she expected to find, but as she ran her fingers through the soft thicket of brown curls, she was horrified to feel a slight sensitivity there.  Her clit ached at her gentle touch and flashes of her dream came back to her. Flat on her back on the forest floor, Malfoy's face between her legs, sucking and nipping at her, asking her to come for him. Her leg gave an involuntary lurch and she remembered that she had kneed him hard. He punched her, Jesus Christ, he punched her like she was some schoolyard bully. She stared hard at her face, looking for a bruise or black eye, surely there was something, she could feel the hit plain as day. She closed her eyes and saw him screaming at her, red in the face, spittle flying from his lips. Saw him standing above her and taking off his underwear. His tall, lean body towering over her, naked and it startled her, but as she saw it, she realized it wasn't for the first time...

 

Remember last time? He had whispered in her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck and shivered in disgust. Felt her throat constrict with a bulge that wasn't there and tasted a strange salty flavor she had never known before. Was there a time before that? Had she dreamt of him before?

 

He fucked her, Draco Malfoy fucked her… stole her virginity from her… and made her come while he did it. Holy shite! She doubled over, retching nothing but stomach bile and fat salty tears into the wastebasket beside her vanity. She had a white knuckle grip on it, shuddering at the thought that Malfoy had raped her… raped her and she came from it.

 

When her stomach stopped convulsing and the sour bile subsided, Hermione lowered the bin back to the floor. She took a steadying breath, wiped the tears from her eyes and stood before the mirror once more. "Please, please no." she whispered, as she tucked a finger back into her private area. Her opening was sore, but as she inserted a finger, she released a breath upon finding her hymen intact. _"A dream. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream. Malfoy hadn't come here… and what? Taken me the Forest of Dean? Kidnapped me and raped me and brought me back?"_ Her internal monologue had her wanting to either laugh or cry,  she wasn't sure which. It had felt so real that her body ached with it, but it was just a dream.  

 

Head shaking, Hermione reached for her fluffy purple bathrobe and set off for a shower. She was being ridiculous, she thought to herself, because Draco Malfoy has nothing better to do than come and steal me away and ravish me. She rolled her eyes at her own foolishness and slipped the bathrobe around her. She grabbed the towel that was draped over the back of the chair and set off for a much needed shower.

 

* * *

  
  


Thick steam filled the air of his ensuite bathroom, moistening the surfaces and fogging the mirror Draco stood before.  A pale gray towel was wrapped loose around his hips as he stared at his now distorted reflection. He examined the discoloration on his ribs, it was well on its way to bruising, Draco thought as he ran his fingers over the spot. It wasn't the only one marring his alabaster flesh, his tone chest and flat stomach littered with marks long healed.

 

Stretching across his upper torso and down the right side of him was the scar Potter had so graciously given him. His shoulder was home to a hoof shaped mark, courtesy of Buckbeak back in his third year at Hogwarts. But it was the marks he couldn't see any longer, the bruises from a fist slammed into his jaw or black eyes from being thrown against furniture that bothered him most.

 

His mother had gotten quite good at healing those minor wounds. A potion to take the sting away from his hand when Sr Malfoy burned him with his tea for taking the last biscuit. Dreamless draughts to rid him of the night terrors when his father killed his boyhood dog. Draco had forgotten to walk Benji - he made a mess in the ladies parlor and his father saw to it that Draco would never love another pet again. An episkey to fix his broken nose when his father found out that Potter had made the quidditch team in first year and Draco hadn't. A bruise salve over his eye when Draco came home with marks only second best to The Mudblood.

 

As Draco got older, the severity of _lessons_ increased though. His right pectoral held four small round shapes … reminders of the times he's endured the cruciatus curse at the hands of his irate father. _At least I was gentle with it_ His father had said that first time … _If I wanted to, it could have been worse._ He had left Draco sprawled on his bedroom floor, gasping for breath, near blacking out with the pain of it each time. It was his mother who always came in, held him til the convulsions stopped, would brush his blonde hair from his sweaty face and rock him silently. She never spoke a word, fear had her mum to the abuse that occurred in Malfoy Manor. Draco himself got pretty good at glamour charms, and staying from underfoot of his father. As he grew older, he knew when best to leave his father be, for fear of another _lesson_.

 

His fingers trailed over the mark once more before finally turning away from the mirror. He pulled the towel from his hips, tossed it over the bar nearest the shower stall and entered the piping hot stream. He braced his hands against the wall and hung his head, allowing the water to pour down his neck and shoulders. Gods what a night, he thought silently as he relived the amazing time he had at Hermione’s. He lifted his head, eyes closed against the spray of the water and imagined her once more.

 

He saw the scenery clear as day. The tree lined river bank, Hermione bent over with those little shorts on,  long legs on display for Draco. Her gathering the water and bringing it to her lips. Saw her running frantically through the woods, listened to her terrified thoughts as she fought to get away. His hand trailed down his abdomen, his dick growing harder as he replayed the nights events behind closed eyelids. The water clung to his long lashes, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on the image of her bouncing breasts while he took roughly. The sounds of her screaming as he pushed into her. He stifled a groan as his hand stroked up and down the length of his cock, squeezing around it, just as her cunt had done when she came. He wasn't sure which was better - her bleeding and pleading for him to stop or her cumming around him and milking him for all he was worth.

 

It was only a moment later that he was expelling himself on the tiled floor of the shower with a moan. Ten minutes more and he was washed, dried and dressed, making his way into the kitchen with a rumbling stomach.

 

* * *

  
  
  


Hermione felt more like herself after a long, hot shower and afternoon tea with her mother. Her trunk was packed and Crookshanks had been brought into the house the night before, so there was nothing left to do but wait. She was perched on the kitchen counter, jean clad  legs swinging while her mother tried to push another sandwich into her hands.

 

“You’re much too thin Hermione, don’t they feed you at that school?” She admonished.

 

Hermione laughed. “I’m fine Mom, really. And anyway, it’s about time to go. Knowing Mrs Weasley, I’ll be stuffed full at dinner tonight.” She laid a hand on her mom’s shoulder, eyes smiling as she looked at her.

 

“Alright then.” Jean tucked the sandwich into a plastic bag and put it in the refrigerator. “I’m sure your father will have it later while we watch the telly.”  

 

"Speaking of dad," she said, hopping off the counter and walking towards the garage. She opened the door and poked her head out. “Dad, I’ll be leaving soon.” John Granger's head peered around the side of his car, a smile on his face. "I'll be right in princess."

 

She stood in the door frame watching as her father closed the bonnet of his candy apple red '64 XKE, the third love of his life. He purchased it and had been restoring it ever sense Hermione's first year at Hogwarts. _His way of coping with his little girl being gone,_ her mother had told her when she came home over the winter Holidays that year. He used a dirty old rag to wipe the grease from his hands and tossed it onto his work bench before walking toward the door. She giggled at the smudge of dirt on his forehead. She held the door open for him and he lovingly kissed her cheek.

 

"All packed?" John asked as the two entered the kitchen. "Yes dad." She said, head shaking slightly, it was the third time he had asked sense the night before.

 

A half hour later John was lugging her trunk into the sitting room where the fireplace was. A sectional sofa and wooden coffee table taking up most of the space in the room. The mantle filled to bursting with pictures of the happy family. John and Jean's wedding photo,  a picture of Hermione as a newborn, cuddled in her mother's arms. Her father smiling wide with a four year old Hermione learning to ride a bike without trainers, pink fringes came out of the handlebars and a helmet to match strapped to her fuzzy haired head. Hermione holding up her letter to Hogwarts, grinning from ear to ear. Even a moving photo of Ron, Harry and Hermione laughing at a joke that had long been told. It was a comfortable space, one of Hermione's favorites in the house. She liked to curl up in the corner on that sofa with a good book and more times than she can count, had fallen asleep there, only to wake up in her room the following morning.

 

The fireplace roared to life, green flames swirling as a figure emerged within it. Arthur Weasley brushed the soot from his robes as he stepped into their den. "Right on time!" John said, holding out his hand to greet the small, plump wizard. "John, Jean, always a pleasure." Arthur smiled, taking hold of the proffered hand. Jean smiled as well, her arm around Hermione's shoulders.  "Arthur, good to see you." She said.

 

"Hello Mr. Weasley." Hermione smiled. "Ron or Ginny with you?"

 

"Just me this time. Harry's already at the Burrow, they are playing a game of quidditch before dinner. Ready to go?  All packed?" He asked.

 

Hermione laughed, slipping from under Jean's arm. "Yes Mr. Weasley, I'm all packed." She pointed towards her trunk. "I just need to grab Crooks and we can go."

 

A few moments later Hermione was holding a struggling Crookshanks, smart cat that he was, he knew he did not like to travel via floo network, and Arthur was levitating her trunk towards the fireplace.

 

Kisses and hugs had been dished out, thank yous and goodbyes said, and Hermione was shouting "The Burrow" and swirling within the green flames.

 

* * *

  


Draco stared at the deep brown liquid as he swirled the lowball glass in his hand. Slate grey  eyes so fixated on the half full glass that he was almost startled when his name was spoken loudly.

 

“Earth to Draco!” Theodore Nott’s voice broke his reverie and Draco looked up at him.

 

Draco brought the tumbler to his lips and downed the remaining aged firewhiskey in his glass, relishing the burn. His cigarette, he noted, had gone out some time ago, the cherry no longer burning bright at the end.

 

Theo glanced at Blaise Zambini, rolling his eyes with an exasperated air to him and turned back to Draco. “Where’s your head at man?” He asked. The brunette standing to retrieve the decanter of firewhiskey from the sidebar of Draco’s ‘man cave’.

 

Draco’s rooms were in the east wing of the manor which had been expanded upon as he got older. It housed his smaller, but fully functioning potions lab, two guest rooms, which more often than not, were filled with the likes of Blaise and Theo, as well as his study - or as Draco called it, his _Man Cave_. The three of them sat in the plush, leather wingback chairs of that man cave now, sipping on his father’s firewhiskey, chewing the fat and smoking cigarettes.

 

His mother hated when he smoked, said it was a smelly habit to pick up and Merlin only knew what it was doing to his lungs, but Draco didn’t pay her any mind. His father loathed the habit, and that’s what kept him at it. _No self respecting Malfoy would be caught dead inhaling those muggle death sticks!_ His father had said to him back when he was fifteen. At first, it was a way for him, Blaise and Theo to blow off steam during the summer, hidden away in the gardens - smoking and gossiping about girls. But then, one afternoon, while his father was out feeding his albino peacocks, he caught the smell of smoke and found Draco, and gave him an earful. He took his pack of smokes, broke each one in front of Draco and taught him another _lesson_ for disgracing the Malfoy name.. That was two summers ago, and now, what started as a reckless thing to do with his friends out of boredom had become a full blown habit for the three of them.

 

Draco used the tip of his wand to relight the menthol cigarette, took a hefty drag from it and nodded his thanks to Theo. As he exhaled, a modified extinguishing charm sucked the smoke from the air, leaving no trace of their activities.

 

“My head is just fine Theo”. Draco waved him off and turned to Blaise. “How was your trip?”

 

Blaise sipped his whiskey before responding. “We had a good time.”

 

“And did Tracey enjoy the Canary Islands?” Theo waggled his eyebrows at Blaise.

 

“As a matter of fact, Miss Davis did enjoy the Islands … though she didn’t see much of them.” His smirk was telling. Blaise was always good with the girls, they just couldn’t get enough of his mocha colored skin, light green eyes and arrogant ways. It was weird, but the more he ignored them, the more they came crawling. Tracey Davis was his fling for the summer, though Draco and Theo both knew that come the start of term, she’d be out the window with the bath water. Zambini never stuck with a girl long and why would he have to? The ladies threw themselves at him.

 

“How ‘bout you Theo? How was Paris?" Blaise asked.

 

Draco didn't hear his response. Had stopped paying attention to his two comrades at the mention of Tracey. Swirling his drink again, Draco was lost in thought about where Hermione was. He'd been by her place seven times sense that night and each time she wasn't there.

 

The last three visits had been one right after another. Both her parents had been home, but Draco was left frustrated by her absence. He stood at her window, watching, waiting for her, but she hadn't shown. No nightly showers, no lotioning, no good time and each night he left angrier than the last.

 

The last visit had been last night and he wondered if he should kick his buddies out. Head over again this evening. Maybe she'd be back?

 

* * *

  
  


Ron was laughing around a mouthful of smashed potatoes, Hermione, rolling her eyes and Harry tried to stifle his snickers. The twins were being reprimanded by a fuming Molly Weasley for pulling yet another stunt at the dinner table. They said they were only trying to help, but the tea kettle had sprouted legs and ran away, splashing hot water all over the table when anyone tried to grab for it.

 

Arthur was quick with his wand, stilling the frantic kettle only moments after it started. But Molly was still scolding her boys for their antics. It didn't matter how old the Weasley sons were, they all still cowered in the wake of an irate Molly Weasley.

 

It was a while later before Hermione asked "how's the joke shop coming?" Turning her attention to Fred and George, the latter of whom had just shoved a spoon full of pudding into his mouth.

 

"Coming along Fine!" Fred's smile was broad. "Fine indeed!" George added enthusiastically after he had swallowed. "You all should come for a visit while you're shopping for your school things." Fred said, George nodding along side him.

 

"Can we mom?" Ginny piped up from the other side of Harry.

 

"I don't see why not." It was Arthur who answered. "We'll be heading to the Alley tomorrow. Only two weeks left til term."

 

The Summer Holidays had been a whirlwind of excitement and passed by rather quickly this year. Bill and Fleur's wedding being the center of it, and the reason Hermione and Harry had come so soon into the break. The small Burrow was home to many guests these last few weeks and it was all finally starting to simmer down.

 

The students returning to Hogwarts, Ginny for her sixth year and Ron, Hermione and Harry for their seventh and final year, had gotten their owls with school lists just the day before. Hermione was surprised to find that she'd been chosen as head girl, though the rest of the group knew it was coming. She had wondered, none stop, sense getting her letter, who they chose for head boy.

 

A while later they were all gathered in the cramped sitting room. Percy, in his horned rimmed glasses sat on one of the arm chairs having a quiet conversation with Arthur about Ministry musings. His girlfriend, Penelope, was perched on one of the arms, though she didn't appear to be listening too intently. Harry and Ron were engrossed in another round of Wizards Chess, Fred and George betting on the outcome of the game. They were passing knuts back and forth between them. Molly could be heard in the kitchen, tidying up, while Ginny and Hermione sat in the threadbare, but comfortable sofa.

 

"Everything okay with you?" Ginny asked Hermione for what seemed like the tenth time sense she got to the Burrow.

 

"Yes Ginny." Hermione bit her bottom lip. "But, can i tell you something?"

 

Ginny had been waiting for it. While Harry and Ron might be Hermione's two best friends, Ginny came in a close third and they tended to share the more girly aspects of life with each other.

 

"You can tell me anything, 'Mione, you know that." Ginny laid a comforting hand on Hermione's knee. "Want to talk about it upstairs?"

 

The two shared Ginny's bedroom whenever Hermione came to stay. It was a squeeze, having all these people at the Burrow during the summer Holidays, but they always seemed to make it work. Hermione nodded and the two girls stood up. Harry and Ron glanced at the passing females, but made no move to join them.

 

"Alright there?" Was all Ron said, and the two nodded at him on their way to the stairs.

 

Ginny sat with a humph on one of the two beds in the room. The walls were pink, though the fiery redhead had taken to covering almost every square inch of them with moving posters of the Quidditch team the Chuddley Cannons and The Twisted Sisters, a Wizarding rock group famous amongst Britain's youth. Pictures of some of her school friends dotted the walls and one larger photo of all of the Weasleys, gathered together at Christmastime sat above her bed. A small desk was pushed into the corner of her room, though Hermione was sure it didn't see much action, based on the thin film of dust covering the surface.

 

Hermione sat next to her, arms touching for as close as they were and tilted her head onto Ginny's shoulder. She let out a sigh. After a moment of companionable silence,  Ginny finally knocked her knee against Hermione's.

 

"As nice as it is to get away from the boys," she began, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

 

Hermione pulled back from her, turned and curled a leg beneath her. She sat, facing Ginny and even as she thought of how to say it, a blush crept up her face. Ginny smirked.

 

"Is this about a boy?" She guessed and Hermione laughed.

 

"Is it that obvious?" She exhaled a large puff of air from her lungs, her brown curly fringe blowing as she did so. "I don't know Gin." She started. "Yes and no?" She made a face.

 

Ginny laughed. "Well, you've come to the right place!" She too turned in her seat, hands clasped together in her lap as she waited for Hermione to continue.

 

"It's weird." She said, fiddling with her fingers. "I've been having these… dreams."

 

"Don't I know it!" Ginny said, and at Hermione's confused look, she went on. "We've shared a room for a month now, 'Mione. You're not a quiet sleeper, especially when _he_ is in your dreams."

 

Again, Hermione was blushing, her face turned scarlet. "Oh gods." She put her face in her hands. "I'm sorry Gin!"

 

"Nonsense!" Ginny said "but who is he?"

 

"You can't tell anyone Ginerva Weasley!" Hermione spoke into her hands.

 

"It can't be _that_ bad." Ginny rolled her eyes.  Though, she knew it must be, because Hermione only used her full name when it was _that bad_.

 

"It's weird" Hermione said again. "Sometimes, the dreams … they are bad. Really bad. Like nightmares. Terrifying,  really." Hermione pulled her face from her hands and looked at Ginny intently. She went on, "but sometimes, they're really good. Like, mind blowing, good." Hermione was not without girly feelings, she was 17 years old, after all. She knew all there was to know about sex. The basics of it anyway, what she had read in books and the stuff she had heard from Ginny. But she only ever snogged a couple of boys and rarely did she touch herself. Never had she gone further than that, so it was startling to her that these dreams kept cropping up.

 

"How bad is bad, Hermione?" Ginny looked concerned.  "And who is it?"

 

Hermione opted not to answer the first question, embarrassed about what Ginny might think of her for continuously dreaming about being raped.

 

"Promise you won't laugh?"

 

Ginny nodded.

 

"Malfoy." Hermione grimaced, his name but a whisper falling from her lips.

 

"Ferret face?!" Ginny tried to hold back her laughter. "Draco Ferret Malfoy?!" She tried to be quiet, she really did, but Ginny's voice had risen by the end of it and Hermione swatted her arm.

 

"Yes!" She fell back in the bed, arm covering her face as she groaned. "Ferret face!"

 

"Why on earth would you be dreaming about him?" Ginny's laughter had died down. She too fell back in the bed and they lay side by side looking up at a photo from last year. The picture above them was one of Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry. Ron's arm was slung around Hermione's shoulders, her blushing at him, while Harry and Ginny stood close enough to touch, but didn't. The two girls looked at the picture, Ginny waiting for Hermione to continue,  Hermione feeling as though she should have kept it to herself.

 

"I don't know." She groaned again. It was unnerving. Hermione was never one to simply _not know_ and it drove her spare to be left wondering. "It started the day I was coming over for summer. The night before, I had a nightmare.  He was chasing me, almost like hunting me. It was terrible." Hermione didn't want to elaborate on how bad it was, so she kept going. "But sense then, I've had a few more dreams about him. Snogging and…" her voice got quiet "touching." She bit her bottom lip again.

 

"I thought you liked Ron?" Ginny asked.

 

"I thought I did too." She watched on as the picture Hermione blushed. It was so strange to her. Just last year she was blushing at Ron's arm around her shoulders,  and now she was dreaming about being fucked by Malfoy. Sometimes terribly and other times not as bad. She always sad no, never really wanted it, but her body was a traitor and his fingers, mouth and penis always had her coming, even as she begged him to stop. It terrified her, it really did. She didn't like Malfoy. He was so cruel, and mean and he hated her. The feeling was definitely mutual. She had just punched him again  just last year. He was making fun of a younger year, calling him a mudblood and threatening him. The boy looked so scared and Hermione was so mad at him for it, she just hauled off and hit him. Pretty hard too, his eye was black and blue for a week after that and her knuckles hurt. He had ran off from her, same as back in third year. Ron and Harry clapped her on the back and they went off to their classes like nothing happened.

 

"Ron is sweet, really sweet. But I don't see us working. And that's probably for the better. I don't want anything to happen to our friendship." Hermione said.

 

Ginny rolled onto her side, head propped up on her elbow as she looked at her friend. "So you've got a thing for Ferret face then?" She asked.

 

"Gods no, Gin! That's the problem. He's horrible!"

 

"Not horrible to look at." Ginny winked. Hermione blanched. "I'm just saying!"

 

"Oh shut it Gin!" The girls laughed. It was nice to have gotten it off her chest,  even if it was a watered down version.

 

* * *

  


He was in the woods again. Chasing her, though he couldn't catch her. He heard her laugh, as if taunting him, daring him to capture her. He wanted her, needed her. It always started the same. Watching her in the water, stalking her and then chasing her.

 

His lungs burned, his legs ached, but still he ran on.  So close behind her that he could smell the lavender scent of her lotion, was within inches of grabbing her whipping hair.  Every time he reached out, he seized only fistffulls of air. The predator in him let out a frustrated growl.

 

Draco woke with a start, panting, sweating. His cock strained against his pajama bottoms. Merlin, how many times have I wanked off to the thought her over the last month? He'd lost count. He needed her. Was at a loss of what to do, because he couldn't find her. She just was not there. Does she know? The thought had crossed his mind before, but he quickly brushed it aside. No. She can't know. He'd be in azkaban if she did.

 

He pushed damp hair from his brow line, scrubbed his hand down his face and finally left his bed.

 

A wave of his wand told him it was four in the morning. An awkward hour. Too late to go out, too early to start the day. Draco left his rooms, wandered the halls of Malfoy Manor and ended up in the ballroom.

 

There had been many a socialite gathering here. Ladies in their finest silks, dripping with expensive jewels and heals that clattered along the marble floors as they walked and danced. Men donning their most handsome dress robes, cufflinks of gold or platinum, with the prettiest witches of England on their arms.

 

Now, though, with moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling length windows, it was his safe haven. Empty, quiet, waiting. Waiting for the next party or masquerade ball. Waiting to be filled with people, music and laughter. This evening, however, it was waiting for him.

 

He was silent as he padded across the dance floor, approaching the prize jewel at the center of the room. A sleek, black grand piano. His hand traipsed across the top, fingers curling to grasp and lift the cover. He notched the lid prop in place and moved towards the bench. After pulling it out and seating himself at the edge,  Draco slid the board back with ease and placed his fingers on the keys. 

 

His arms were relaxed as he began one of his favorite classical pieces. With a name like Vengeance, it was quite fitting for his mood. The composition started with long keystrokes, his foot holding the pedal down to draw out the notes. His eyes closed as the tempo increased - striking the keys and moving to the music. In the upper register, the notes built to a crescendo, reflected in his face, for he grimaced as he played. He pined after her, so lost in his delusional mind that she belonged to him, and it pained him that she was gone. Being alone allowed him to dismiss all subtlety; Playing at  mezzo forte and louder, at one point almost banging at the keys. The melody was frighteningly harsh, reflecting his mood and moving his soul with the sounds the instrument made. Much in the way it started, the piece ends with sad, somber and long strokes, leaving Draco breathless. 

 

He sat for a moment longer, fingers braced on the spruce wood as he cleared his mind. Six minutes was not long enough and so Draco played on. The rich sound of his pain radiated in the cavernous ballroom, filling the empty space with melodious therapy.  It wasn’t until dawn was breaking in those tall windows that he covered the keys, replaced the bench and closed the lid. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad Draco. :( The crack-pot is lost without her.  
> If you're a musician and I fucked it all up, please let me know!  
> Writing that was the hardest part of this chapter, but I really wanted it in there. 
> 
> Like it? Kudos. Love it? Comment. Want more? Tell me!  
> I only write because you read. I'll only continue because you want me to.  
> Thanks y'all!  
> Have a great day!  
> :)


	5. Chocolate Dipped Bananas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger trigger trigger!   
> JKR owns all, im just sick and dabling in her world.   
> No beta. If you see it and it needs fixing, let me know. Cant beta, I'd die from mortification!   
> I hope you enjoy!

Draco was brooding again, his mother noticed, while dining together. Senior Malfoy wasn’t present, so she was a little more open with her son in enquiring about what was bothering him.  

  


“Draco, darling, you haven’t touched your dinner. What’s going on?” Her typically stoic face was lined with concern. Her hand reached across the table to grab hold of his, she squeezed it gently. 

  


He didn’t respond, just continued poking at his roasted beef with the tines of a heavy fork. 

  


“What’s troubles you, my little Dragon?” She only called him that when his father was away. Draco used to like it. It made him feel special. He was her little dragon. She’d say it soothingly to him while she rocked him through his pain. Now though, it just made him feel small and childish. He pulled his hand from his mother's grasp. His stormy gray eyes leveled on her and his words were kurt when he spoke. “Don’t call me that, mother.” 

  


She withdrew her hand, using it to pick up the knife and with the ease of a woman trained in etiquette, sliced into the moist meat on her plate. She cut her food into small, bite-sized pieces and stuck a morsel into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed and dabbed her mouth with the linen napkin before speaking again. 

  


“You can talk to me, you know.” She stared at her plate as she spoke, her downcast eyes would have made any child feel bad, but it did nothing of the sort for Draco. “I heard you playing last night. It’s been awhile since you have.”

  


“Were you spying on me?” He glared at his mother, face contorted with anger. He looked so much like his father that it scared her. 

  


“No, son, I just couldn’t sleep.” It was like he struck her, the way she recoiled. She was a woman who lived in fear, it was plain to tell by her behavior. Lucius wasn’t only violent with Draco, though no one knew that he would take his anger out on her as well. He never left marks that could be seen and she knew better than to share their  _personal life_ with anyone. 

  


As quickly as it came, the anger was gone. Draco sat up a little taller in his chair, looked his mother over with a small smile and took hold of her hand. 

  


“Forgive me mother, I don’t know where my head is at these last few weeks.” He played the dotting son card so well, her mind was  _ almost _ at ease. 

  


“Let’s head into Diagon Alley tomorrow. It’s the last time we’ll be shopping for your school things.” Narcissa wasn’t an emotional woman, her heart was locked away in a drawer in her room, as far from her shoulder as it could be. But as she sat here now, with her son, almost a man grown, she couldn’t help the sentimental feelings that washing over her. He still held her hand in his, and squeezed it once more, a small smile still playing on his lips. It was not the signature Malfoy smirk, this smile was meant to be calming, reassuring for his mother, and it worked. 

  


“I’d like that.” He said. 

  


He released her hand and they resumed eating. All signs of his anger gone.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They were the largest group by far, strolling down the streets of Diagon Alley together. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, slightly ahead of Arthur and Molly Weasley, as well and John and Jean Granger. They were heading down the crowded street toward the most colorful building on the block. Weasley Wizarding Wheezes stood out amongst the rest - the bright oranges and vibrant purples popping in an eye catching manner. The joke shop was filled to capacity with wandering children and groaning parents and that’s where they were headed. 

  


The door chimed with a bell as it swung open, the teenagers all stepped forth while the parents opted to wait outside. Arthur and John were engaged in an enthusiastic conversation regarding the Jaguar rebuild. Arthur didn’t know anything about cars, or muggle transport at all, for that matter, but he listened intently as John told him about replacing the Jag’s carburetors just a few weeks ago. 

  


Their voices cut off abruptly as the door swung shut behind the teens and the four of them looked around slack jawed and wide eyed. “Can you believe they really did it?” Ginny said, “Check this place out!” She looped arms with Hermione, dragging her one way, while Ron and Harry went another. 

  


Fred and George appeared behind the boys, clapping Harry on the back with a smile. “Anything you want is yours!” Fred said. “Yeah, without you, it would have been a while longer til we could have opened.” George said. 

  


It was true. Harry had won the Triwizard tournament. Won the gold, glory, and the pride of the school. But he had enough money sitting in his vault at Gringotts, and didn’t need the gold. He offered it to Cedric Diggory, who came in second behind him, finishing just four minutes after Harry did; But Cedric’s pride was smarting and he turned it down. So, Harry offered it to George and Fred. He didn’t think it was fair that he should keep the money, not when he didn’t even willingly join the tournament to begin with. 

  


Professor Moody ended up being Barty Crouch Jr, but was caught out by Dobby when he found him raiding Snape’s potion stores trying to get more ingredients for his polyjuice potion. Crouch Jr was given The Kiss, the real Moody took up the teaching position he was there for, and the remainder of the tournament went off without a hitch. The only reason Potter finished ahead of Diggory at all was because he had more experience with the Blast Ended Skrewts. Harry helped raise them from babies and knew their only weakness would be their underbellies. Potter didn’t feel bad in the slightest when he bombarded that beast to smithereens,  _ because  _ he’d raised them from babies. Those things had pinched, burned, and poked him enough that he only smiled when he said the spell and watched as the creature was blown away. Once he gave the twins the money, they invested it in merchandise, branding and experimenting. The year after they graduated from Hogwarts, the twins had more than enough money from mail orders, to buy a bit of real estate which was now home to their joke shop and flat. 

  


Harry graciously accepted their offer, but when Ron said "what kind of discount do I get?" The twins merely laughed in his face and walked away. A scarlet faced Ron turned back to Harry and grumpily muttered "there's nothing cool here anyway." Harry laughed, head shaking and said "just get what you want, I'll say it's for me." And Ron perked back up, bright blue eyes shining as his head swiveled round, looking for stuff to get. 

  


Hermione and Ginny meandered back over to Harry and Ron, whose arms were now burdened with goods a plenty. They made their purchases and walked back onto the street to regroup with their parents. Hermione shrank her bag, and stuck it in her coat pocket. 

  


“Uh, mind helping out?” Harry sheepishly asked her. While Hermione was great at charms and the like, Harry and Ron weren’t so much. One by one she shrunk their bags and Ron, Harry and Ginny pocketed their purchases from the twins shop. 

  


“Florean Fortescue's anyone?” Ginny asked the group. 

  


“I’ve been dying to try their new chocolate dipped bananas!” Hermione said "And mom, you'll love their lemon sebert." 

  


The rest of the group agreed, and they all turned in that direction.  “I’ve got to swing by Gringots a moment.” Harry mentioned. It was on the way to the ice cream store. The rest stayed outside while Harry hurried in. Ron was conversing with John and Arthur, more about the muggle car and it’s parts, Molly and Jean were discussing cooking with magic. Ginny and Hermione walked on at a much slower pace, though they didn't go far.  


  
  


* * *

  
  


As Draco and his mother were exiting Gringotts, he was almost bowled over by a rushing dark haired man. “Watch it!” He spat, pushing the man out of his way and regaining his footing. He soon realized who the man was, recognizing Potter with his bespectacled face and ugly scar. The green eyed  _ savior  _ stepped back from Draco, half an apology falling from his lips before he too recognized his school yard nemesis. Potter just shook his head, eyes rolling and he continued into the bank. Draco straightened his robes, dusting off his shoulders as though the run-in with Potter had him as dirty as if he’d stepped out of the floo. 

  


The pair were departing the bank, making their way down the stairs when Draco spotted the rest of Potter’s party. The weasley’s conversing with none other than the Grangers. He stopped dead in his tracks. They were here … what are they doing here? Where is The Mudblood? His eyes quickly scanned the streets, crowded though they were, he easily spotted the bushy hair of The Mudblood and the fire red hair of The Weaslette. It was like a punch in the gut, seeing her there after wondering for so long. He wanted to go to her, grab her and take her, lock her away and keep her. She wouldn’t leave his side ever again, if he had his way … but he didn’t, did he? She wasn’t his, was she? 

  


Narcissa turned and looked up at her son, she was now three steps below him. “Draco?”

  


He snapped out of his stare and hurried to his mother's side. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow and they started down the street together. He was sure to steer them in the opposite direction, trying to figure out what he could say to his mother to get away from her. 

  


“Blaise and Theo wanted to meet up when we were done.” He pulled his pocket watch from his robe pocket and glanced at it. “We got everything on the list, so I’d like to go catch up with them.” He turned to look at his mother, stopping them in their trek down the road. “Do you mind, mother?” Again, his face held that comforting smile, that easy to agree with look, one that she rarely if ever declined. 

  


Narcissa smiled, smoothly extracted her hand from Draco’s hold and nodded. “Sure, Darling, No problem. Will I see you for dinner this evening?” 

  


Draco replied in the affirmative, kissed his mother's cheek and set off in the opposite direction of her. She would floo from the Leaky Cauldron to Malfoy Manor, whereas he was heading back towards Gringotts. He turned down a much smaller side street, and took a  moment to disillusion himself as well as silence his steps. Draco stepped back out onto the crowded, cobbled streets of the Alley. He first laid eyes on Potter, exiting the bank and joining the group of Weasley’s and Granger’s. Ahead of them, he spied Ginny and Hermione. He kept quite a few paces behind, though navigating around the other shoppers was proving to be a difficult task, for Draco had to side step many an unsuspecting patron. 

  


The large group stopped at the only ice cream shop in the alley, the door chiming with their entrance and slamming shut behind them once inside. He would have to time it just right, if he wanted to get inside too. Draco was still standing near the door, waiting for the right opportunity to gain access, when the door swung open once more. He made to dash inside, but stopped short. As luck would have it, the Granger’s, Weasley’s and lone Potter were exiting Florean Fortescue's, each holding a different variation of ice cream or sweet. Draco back-peddled, trying to get out of their way as Molly Weasley led the charge, walking quickly through the opening and onto the patio that held bunches of wrought iron tables and chairs. He was almost knocked over for the second time that day, by her brisque walk and wider frame. His seeker reflexes saved the day, having him jump nimbly out of the way before they collided.  

  


Draco breathed a silent sigh of relief, head shaking slightly as he watched the group take their seats. The four teenagers sat at one round table, while the four adults sat around another a few feet away.

Draco stood, leaning against the building; his arms were loose at his sides, hands tucked into his robes pockets and his legs crossed at the ankles. If they could see him, they would note the look of disgust on his face as he watched The Weasel eating his ice cream cone, licking and slurping at the treat as though he were a dog with a bone. Scarhead sipped silently at a thick milkshake and The Weaslette looked to be enjoying the same sweet treat as him. 

The Mudblood though … she was a whole different story. She was the only one in the group who picked the chocolate dipped frozen banana, and Draco stood rooted to the spot as she tucked the long fruit into her little mouth. She sucked at the tip lightly and Draco had to bite his lip to keep from groaning aloud. Her moan though, that’s what got his pants tightening, his cock hardening as he listened to her enjoy the treat. Ron blushed at the display, but Draco didn’t see it, nor did Hermione, for her eyes were closed in contentment as she indulged on the treat. 

“It’s so good.” She breathed, eyes opening to look at her friends. 

She must’ve noticed Ron’s reaction, because her face soon resembled his. Her cheeks turned a pretty pink, the blush creeping downwards and spreading across her neck. 

“So, erm, our last summer, huh?” She cleared her throat, and rushed the words out to break the tension. “I’m going to miss summers at the Burrow.” Draco listened intently, an Aha! moment struck him:  _ That’s where she’s been!  _

“It doesn’t have to be, ‘Mione.” Ron spoke quietly, lowering his ice cream cone as he did. Draco could only see his profile and that look of distaste crossed his invisible features again.  _ What an idiot,  _ He thought to himself,  _ Like she would want him.  _ He rolled his eyes. 

“Well, no, but it will be the last summer between terms.” She lifted the treat and bit into it, this time much more bland than the last.  _ Looks like she doesn’t want Weaslebee ogling her,  _ Draco thought. 

“For you guys, sure, but I’ve got another year left.” Ginny said in an almost hurt voice. Under the table, Harry’s hand reached to take hold of hers. He pulled their joined hands into his lap and looked at Ginny.  


“It’s only one more year Gin.” He smiled.  


“Yeah, a year by myself, without you guys.” She pushed the now empty cup from her and rested her other hand in her lap. She looked shyly at Harry as the words came out softly “Without you.” Harry just held her hand, thumb stroking the top of it.  


“Well, I’ll be without all of you guys  _ this year _ .” Hermione spoke into the silence. “I’m head girl, and I won’t be sharing the tower with you guys anymore.” Hermione sounded less hurt than Ginny, but unhappy nonetheless.   


“What?” Ron looked taken aback. “Where will you be?”  


“The head boy and girl share a smaller dorm” She bit the banana again, chewed and swallowed. Looking thoughtful, she added. “I think it’s on the third floor.”  


“Bollocks, Hermione, I didn’t know that.” Ron didn’t look too happy about this new  development.  


“Everyone knows that Ronald,” Hermione said in a huff. “It’s thoroughly covered in … “  


She was interrupted by the three of them “Hogwarts, A History.” They spoke in unison, eyes rolling.  


Hermione blushed for the second time that day. “Well … yes.” She couldn’t stop the laugh that burst forth, all four of them sniggering at her predictability.  


Draco had heard and seen enough. She wasn’t avoiding him, she was just visiting the Weasley’s at the Burrow. A calm washed over him, though he wasn’t sure why. Why would he be concerned with her avoiding him anyway? Draco could care less about the Mudblood, she was just his current good time. Something for him to take off of a shelf and fiddle with when he was bored. As soon as he was done, he’d put her right back - never think about her again, like a child who had outgrown his toy. But, something at the back of his mind told him that was inching farther from the truth than it should be. He was leaving the patio now, walking down the street aimlessly, forgetting that he was disillusioned. So lost in his thoughts he was, that he didn’t take care to watch his step, or avoid other people as he had previously. This resulted in someone stepping on the back of his shoe. The disembodied yelp had the guilty young child yell “Ghost!” and running for the hills. Draco turned down that same side street, removed the charms and re-emerged.  


“Head girl, huh?” Draco wondered aloud as he walked, “Perfect.”  


  
  


* * *

  
“Stop, please father!”  Draco was writhing on the floor in pain. Lucius’ wand trained on him, a cruel look on his features as he stared through angry gray eyes at Draco. “I’m sorry!” Draco yelled. “Plea..” his words of begging were cut off as another bout of the cruciatus curse ripped through him. Struggling against the pain of a thousand knives slicing him, Draco’s back went rigid - arching at an impossible angle, his fingernails clawed into the wooden floorboards of his bedroom, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He pissed himself … oh gods, he actually peed all over himself, his father will be so mad …   

“Stop!” He bellowed, sitting bolt upright in his bed. Draco frantically searched his surroundings, looking for his demented father. He looked down at his pajama bottoms to find them free of urine. He wasn’t a fifteen year old boy, screaming for reprieve from his depraved father. He was in his bed, as safe as he can be with the monster of his night terrors lurking in the same manor. He was shaking, his whole body aching, he was straining in his sleep again. It didn’t happen often, but when the nightmares struck him, he felt as though he were reliving those ordeals all over again, accept this time it was without his mother to care for him afterwards. She wasn’t there now to stroke his forehead, to whisper “It will be okay, my little Dragon”. He was on his own to pick up the pieces, and shattered though they were, he knew what to do. His throat felt raw, no doubt Draco was screaming in his sleep. He stood from his bed and went into the bathroom. He turned on the tap, used his hands to gather water, and splashed the cold clear liquid onto his sweaty face. He didn’t dare look at himself, for he knew what he would find. A scared face peering back at him, sweaty, pale, bedraggled hair and he might mistake that wetness for tear tracks. He wasn’t weak, he was stronger than that. One more year at school and he would be able to leave this house and his fucked up father for good. 

Continuing to sleep was wishful thinking at this point, and so Draco dressed quickly and left the manor. He apparated into Knockturn Alley. There was a seedy little joint he was heading for, potentially pick up a witch or two to pass the time with. As he walked down the narrow walkway, Draco passed store after store offering the sale of some not so savory products. It was dark and the streets were dim, but he still kept his hood pulled tight around his head. It wouldn’t do well for Draco to be seen in this part of town. As he was passing by Borgin And Burks, a hand reached out and grabbed hold of Draco’s forearm. He was startled, so much so that he pushed the person grabbing him away. “What the?” His wand was drawn and pointing in the old hags face faster than she could blink.  


“ I mean no harm” Her croaky voice sounded from under a shallow hood. He could see her hooked nose, her rotting teeth and sallow skin. Draco took a step back, shaking his arm as though she had  burned him.  


“Don’t touch me, you disgusting scum.” His voice was harsh, a sneer on his face as he took in the woman. “Ugh.”  


The beggars in Knockturn alley were plentiful and Draco watched his step from then on as he made his way past the dark stone buildings. He stuck to the center of the walkway, as to not pass too closely to an open alley. It was a moment later that he was approaching a very nondescript, small concrete building. Seemingly out of nowhere the door emerged for him and he pushed the heavy, weathered wood open. He was immediately engulfed in one of the few nightclubs that was available in Wizarding Britain. It looked like a hovel from the outside, a building too small to be as open and filled as it was on the inside. The music pulsed loudly around him, he could feel it in his bones and it was exactly what he needed to rid himself of the dream he experienced just a short while before. He pushed through the throng of people, who were swaying in time to the heavy bass radiating off the walls.  


Draco looked at the bartop, scanned the high wooden counter for a place to sit and order a drink. He found this club last year and had been quite a few times. He never came to dance. He only came to partake in some of the recreational potions available, or to leave with a witch too hammered to say no or remember the night before. Tonight, he was looking for both.  

He spotted an opening and made his way toward it. There was a lone witch sitting at the corner, a spot next to her vacant and he planted himself on the stool. The barmaid, Sessy, came over to take his drink order. She was a blonde, fair skinned woman, couldn’t have been older than twenty and showed off her many assets to ensure good tips. Her skirt was little, stockings high and top tiny, the same as all of the other girls who worked in this club. Her flat stomach had a piercing through the navel, and as she leaned over the counter to hear his order, he could see her bright red bra that showed more than it covered. 

  


“A firewhiskey.” Draco yelled over the music. 

  


As she sauntered away to retrieve his order, Draco turned to the lone girl sitting next to him. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked. The girl held up a half empty glass of swirling pink liquid and shook her head. “I’ve got one, thanks.” She turned away from him. 

  


Draco took his drink from Sessy, downed it quickly and held up the glass to request another. The burn of the liquid felt good, just what the doctor ordered, he thought to himself. He pulled a pack of menthol smokes from his trouser pockets and placed them on the bar top in front of him. Free hands allowed him to push the heavy fabric of his cloak back before untying it and slipping it off all together. He sat higher in his seat, situated himself a bit more comfortably and was lighting  a cigarette just as the barmaide came back over. She placed the drink down in front of him with a smile and because he didn’t slam this one and ask for more, made herself scarce. 

  


“Now a cigarette, I will take.” The woman said to him. Draco obliged. He stuck his smoke between his lips and pulled a fresh  one from his pack and handed it to her. She put the menthol between her lips and Draco held up his wand up for her. She took hold of his wrist, steadying his wand and took a deep drag, lighting the cigarette.  

  


“Not very many wizards smoke, ya know.” She looked at him more closely now that his hood was off, taking in his white blonde hair, gray eyes and brilliant smile. He wasn’t bad to look at, she thought, a little charmer. He plucked the smoke from his mouth, holding it between his first and second fingers.

  


“No, I don’t suppose they do.” He sipped at his drink, turning once again in his seat to face her more fully. 

  


She was pretty in the face, had hardly any makeup on, and was modestly covered in comparison to the barmaid and other female patrons. Her dress was form fitting, black and little, but left plenty to the imagination with a higher neckline and fell to mid thigh. No, her butt cheeks wouldn’t be hanging out if she were to stand up. Nice, Draco thought. Her hair was brown … but it was straight, not curly or frizzy, And her eyes were hazel, not cinnamon, but it would have to do.

  


He held up his glass to hers. “A toast to killing ourselves.” They clinked glasses and downed their drinks.

  


“Want that drink now?” Draco quirked a slender brow at her.

  


“Yeah … “ She looked thoughtful “Yeah, I’ll have a drink with you.” 

  


An hour later Draco was slamming her back against a grimy alleyway wall.  The wind was knocked out of her with an oof and her head hit the wall. He kissed her hard, taking the breath of air that was expelled. His teeth bit against her lower lip, tugged at it, demanding she open her mouth so he could plunge his tongue into it. He pulled back after a moment, gasping. 

  


"Easy there" she slurred into his ear. He had bought her drink after drink, shot after shot and it reflected in her voice now. 

  


Draco planned on being anything but easy. The darkness permeated his already foggy senses enough so that he could imagine this dark haired beauty was His Mudblood. He lifted her arms, much in the same way that he did with Hermione and whispered the sticking charm. She giggled. The drunken little witch actually giggled. 

  


He was flush against her smaller frame, his hands roaming her body roughly, moving lower towards her thighs and squeezing her bum. His face pressed into her neck and he breathed deeply. No lavender … a strong vanilla scent assaulted him and he growled. This was not Granger. She didn't smell like Granger,  didn't act like Granger. This witch wanted it, Granger didn't. That took the fun out of it. 

  


He stepped back and looked at the intoxicated witch. Her eyes closed, her body writhing under his touch, almost asking for more. He'll give her more, the thought crossed his mind as he smirked. He quickly turned the witch, her front pressed against the brick wall, arms now crossed at the wrist, as she was still bound by his spell.  She let out a squeak of surprise at his forwardness, but wiggled her hips enticingly anyway. 

  


She looked over her shoulder at him,  eyes glazed over with the amount of booze she imbibed in, a coy smile playing at her lips.  

  


"Remind me of your name?" She was breathless, his hands still trailing along her body.  

  


"I never told you." He whispered into her ear.  

  


"Won't you now?" She panted, grinding her bottom into his front. His pants were tented and she could feel his length hardening beneath her movement. 

  


"No." Draco pulled down the top of her dress, her bra cups soon followed and breasts, slightly larger than Hermione's, spilled forth into his hands. He kneaded at the tissue, pulled at her nipples and pushed himself into her bum.  

  


"Yes" she panted "just like that." 

  


"You like that, do you?" He bit at her exposed neck lightly. 

  


"Yes, please." She crooned, arching into him. 

  


Draco bit harder into her soft flesh, his teeth leaving indents in her skin. 

  


"Softer, please" her voice was a little stronger now. 

  


His fingers pinched harder at her nipples, twisting the tight rose colored points between his fingers.  

  


"No." Came his reply.  

  


She was confused now. No? What did he mean, no? 

  


He pulled one hand from her breast, lifted it to her hair and gathered a handful at the roots. Her hair was straight between his fingers, not bushy, not curly, didn't entrap his digits as Hermione's had done. He yanked her head back roughly, pulling tightly at the strands.  

  


"Still want it, witch?" He rasped into her ear. She didn't answer. 

  


His other hand dropped her breast and he reached into his pocket to retrieve his wand. He cast a bubble of silence around them. He wanted to hear her, not silence her, but he didn't want to be interrupted. 

  


He held her head at a neck breaking angle, her eyes widening in fear as she stared upwards. She couldn't see the twinkling stars in the alley, couldn't see the light of the half moon, for the tall buildings blocked her view. 

  


"Just go slower, it's better that way." She whispered, fear sobering her voice.  

  


"Better for who?" Draco used his wand to unbutton his pants, the now loose garment sliding down his legs and pushed at his boxers, they too fell to the floor. 

  


His dick was free, pushing against her skirted bottom and he moaned into her neck. The witch remained silent. 

  


"I asked you a question." His voice was no longer calm, it rang harsh in her ears. He used the hand in her hair to push her head forward, the side of her face pressed against the rough wall. 

  


"Me. It's better for me. I don't like it rough." She sounded embarrassed to admit such a thing to a stranger, even though moments ago she was grinding against him seductively. 

  


"Want to hear a secret?" His face moved,  lips pressing against the shell of her ear as he asked. 

  


He pulled the hem of her dress up over the curve of her bum. He tucked the tip of  his wand into the string of her thong and she could feel the powerful magic coursing through the wood as he slid the fabric to the side, exposing her glistening pussy. 

  


He didn't wait for her to answer, her shuttering body had him far too excited to be patient.  

  


"I don't give a fuck how you like it." He bit the lobe of the ear he was speaking into, pinching the pliable flesh between his pearly white teeth. She let out a yelp of pain as he tugged on the earlobe. 

  


"Okay .. okay, so you like it rough. I get it. Can we go somewhere a little more comfortable?" She was fishing here. Maybe if he unstuck her arms she could quickly apparate away from him. This weirdo was hurting her and she wasn't down for being dominated. 

  


But Draco had other ideas. He released her earlobe, his tongue trailed down her neck and it sent shivers down her spine. As he got to her collarbone, he spoke. "No deal, love. Your mine." 

  


His wand was held firmly in his hand and used it to cast a lubricant spell on his cock, whispering the incantation.  

  


"Please" she said. "This would be a lot more fun in my bed." She closed her eyes tight. Her face was bruning, pushed against the brick wall as it was, and her arms were starting to ache. 

  


Draco didn't respond, didn't say anything to the witch. He stuck his wand in his breast pocket, released the hold he had on her hair and grabbed her thighs to spread her legs wider. She obliged, spreading her legs for him while she took her face off of the wall. She was sure there would be bruises tomorrow. 

  


Her drenched pussy lips and puckered bum hole on display for him now and he took a small step back to admire her. 

  


"You really do have a nice arse." His voice was gravely with want. He could smell her heady scent, her pussy so wet and ready for him. 

  


"Thank you." Her voice was quiet. 

  


"Isn't this what you wanted?" His hand gripped her cheeks, spreading her open as he looked at her tiny opening. 

  


She didn't respond, not sure what to say to him. Draco didn't like that. Didn't like her silence, he was offended by her lack of response. 

  


He gripped himself in his hand and stroked slowly, smearing the lubrication up and down his shaft as he spoke. 

  


"I said, isn't this what you wanted? Or are you too good for me?" 

  


The witch began to shake. He sounded crazy. She didn't know what to say or do, didn't want him to freak out on her. 

  


He stepped into her again. This time, his voice was soft as he spoke. 

  


"It's what I want." He aligned himself with her tight hole, her pussy all but forgotten as he tried pushing himself into her. 

  


This was too much, she couldn't do this. She had never done anal before and now the witch was truly scared sober. 

  


"Wait, wait, wrong spot. Lower." She sputtered as his cock began to penetrate her tight sphincter.

  


"No, this is the perfect spot." He shoved himself forward, breaking through her o-ring with the worse pain she'd ever felt  in her life. 

  


She screamed at his intrusion, tried to flatten herself against the wall in the hopes that he would slide out of her, but Draco Was balls deep in her tight asshole, and he grabbed her hips to hold her still.

  


"No!" She screamed into the night air, flinging her head backward to headbutt him. The back of her head collided with his nose,  a resounding crack echoing in their tiny bubble of noise. He lifted one hand to his face, felt the pain of it, felt the gush of blood and Draco saw red. 

  


He pulled his hips back and slammed home once more, grunting in the effort it took for her tiny hole to accommodate him. 

  


She screamed out in pain, fingers clinging to the brick wall as he did it again and again. 

  


"You made me bleed, you fucking whore!" Draco snarled. "Now you're going to bleed." 

  


He used both hands to grab her hips, widened his stance and pounded into her ripping asshole with abandon.  She cried under his onslaught, forehead banging into the brick wall every time he surged forward. 

  


"Stop!" She screamed. "Please!" That was it, Draco thought to himself. That's my Mudblood.  He fucked her faster, his head leaning back, eyes closing and he listened to her sobs. 

  


"Not too good for me now, are you, Mudblood?" He panted as he pumped in and out of her. 

  


She was beyond words, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone respond, for the pain she was in. He bucked his hips wildly in and out her, the blood of his nose dripping past his lips, down his chin and splattering her pretty black dress. His nails bit into her flesh where he gripped her hips, her anus burned as he used her, and as Draco neared his end, he leaned forward to sink his teeth into her shoulder.  

  


Renewed sobs were ripped from her throat as his teeth broke skin and she felt his cock swelling further before a warmth spread in her asshole. 

  


Draco spilled his seed into her, blood mingling with cum, and cried out around clenched teeth that still held her shoulder firmly. He was lost to the whirlwind of pleasure, listening to her crying and begging, feeling how tight His mudblood was around his cock, his eyes closed so firmly he saw stars behind his lids. He released her shoulder, slowed his thrusting and panted into the back of her neck. 

  


"You like that, Hermione?" He whispered into her hair. He breathed deeply, searching for the lavender scent that was not there. This was not Granger! This was not his Mudblood! "What the fuck?!?" Draco roared, pulling himself free of her, stepping back and looking at her. The brown haired witch was clutching to the wall, crying and shaking. Her hair was straight… not curly. She smelled of vanilla…  not lavender. Her begging didn't even sound right. This wanton whore was not his Mudblood. She was nothing! Nothing! 

  


"Avada Kedevra!" Draco sliced his wand through the air, a jet of green light illuminating the face that was not Hers for the briefest of moments before the crying stopped. The witch hung from her arms, her legs no longer held her up, her  eyes no longer seeing, her pain no longer felt. 

  


Draco made quick work of cleaning himself up, righting his clothing and stepped back from the witch. A wave of his wand had her unstuck and falling to the ground in a heap. Another wave and she was transfigured into a small wooden barrel. His hand gripped the barrel before he apparated with a crack.  

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, sick and twisted, dude is going off the deep end! 
> 
> Like it? Kudos! Love it? Comment! Want more? Tell me! I only write because you want me to. And sorry if I suck at writing, but thanks for sticking with it. 
> 
> Can Draco be redeemed? Can this all end happily? Is there no hope for Ron and Hermione? Want to see a bit of Harry and Ginny? Who is head boy?!?! Let me know what you guys think! 
> 
> Thanks y'all, have a great day!


	6. Too Many Slytherins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers, triggers triggers and soooo many triggers.  
> I feel like I need to put that in there for every chapter, but really, if you read the tags, you'd already know.  
> I own nothing! Nothing at all! Thank you JKR, you're awesome.   
> Sorry if this chapter is shorter, it was hard to get through, but I wanted to update for you guys.  
> Enjoy!

Hermione gripped the telephone receiver in her right hand while the left twirled a loose strand of her curly brown hair. She was conversing with her mother from the Burrow’s landline, a phone that was put into place back in her 2nd year so Ron could keep in contact with Harry over the summers. The phone was seldom used, but it was perfect now, to keep her parents in the know about the time frame to meet at King’s Cross station the following day. She was just about to hang up when she heard her mother's voice say her name. 

 

“Hermione, dear, are you still there?” Her voice came over the line. 

 

Hermione pulled the receiver back, put it to her ear and said “Yeah mom?” 

 

"I forgot to thank you for the flowers!” Jean said and she could tell her mother was smiling. Hermione's face grew quizzical "flowers?" She asked. 

"Yes," Jean replied "I can't wait for the lilies to bloom and the pot is so creative. The wooden barrel was such a nice touch." Jean said and Hermione’s voice grew confused, "I didn't send you flowers." Jean paused on the line, Hermione could almost hear her mother’s wheels turning. "Oh? I assumed they were from you." Jean finally spoke again. 

"No note?" Hermione asked. "That's strange." 

 

They hung up a moment later and Hermione went into the living room of the burrow. She planted herself on the couch next to Harry and Ginny, Ron was sat in the overstuffed armchair next to it.  

 

“Someone left potted lilies at my house, my mom thought they were from me. None of you guys sent them, right?” She asked her friends. They all answered in the negative, Ron with a shake of his head and Harry and Ginny both with quiet “no”’s. It was a nice gesture, she thought to herself, but she would have liked to know where they came from. 

 

* * *

  
  


Draco was slightly drunk, having spent the evening at that club in Knockturn Alley one more time before term started the next day. He met up with Blaise and Theo, and while the night was an enjoyable one, he departed earlier than his comrades so as to not be hungover the next day. The trip on the Hogwarts Express was a long one, and he didn’t much like the idea of being groggy or falling asleep on the ride. 

 

He made a stop into the kitchen and grabbed a quick bite to eat, a bit of toasted bread smeared with green sage jam to soak up the alcohol in his stomach and washed it down with tea. Sleep was calling him now, and as his eyes drooped, Draco started on his way to his wing. 

 

He was halfway through the Manor, nearing his father’s study when he heard it. The sconces hanging on the walls were dimmed at this hour, but he didn’t need light to hear it. To hear her. It was the unmistakable sound of his mother sobbing. She was sorry … for what, he knew not, but he knew she was sorry. She wasn’t alone. His father’s icy voice could be heard over her trembling apologies. Lucius was making sure she was sorry and was paying for whatever she did. Draco stopped walking. He was inches from the door that led into his father's study. It stood ajar, light from the room pouring into the darkened hallway. 

 

“Lucius, It won’t happen again.” Her voice was broken. Draco could picture the tears streaming down her elegant face, could imagine her usually coiffed hair pulled out of it’s pins as she was dragged by Lucius’ anger. 

 

He had to pass the door to get his own wing, lest he walked around the other side of the Manor to enter from the far side, but he was glued to the spot. He’d heard this a time or two in the past, though he was never close enough to hear the smack of his father’s hand against what he would assume was his mother’s face. The sound of the slap ricocheting off the walls of the hall and assaulting his ears. Draco flinched as though he were the one being hit. He’d been on the receiving end of that blow enough times for his cheek to sting with muscle memory at the sound of it. 

 

Narcissa’s sobs were louder now, he could picture her scrambling back from his father's fist as he’d done so many times before. Could see Lucius stalking forward, towering over her fallen form, could imagine the anger in his eyes as he looked down at her, disgust apparent on his face. Draco closed his eyes, took a steadying breath and finally move backwards slowly. There was nothing to be done about it. His mother shouldn’t have done whatever she did, he thought to himself, or shouldn’t have gotten caught anyway. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Hermione and Ginny were rushing through the brick barrier between platforms nine and ten, closely on the heels of Ron and Harry. Their parents soon followed after to see them off. John and Jean Granger coming ahead of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Molly embraced Harry tightly, her giving him the same tearful farewell that she just gave Ginny and Ron while Hermione had her arms wrapped around the necks of both her parents. 

 

"Last year, huh?" John said, ruffling her already messy hair. "You've grown up so much princess." He spoke her pet name quietly and Hermione smiled at her father. He held her at arm's length, moisture in his eye that he would swear was  _ allergies _ , but Hermione knew better. He leaned in to give her another bone crushing hug, before pulling away and wrapping one arm around his wife’s slender waist. Jean looked on lovingly, a tear slipping free from her eye, though she didn’t try to hide it. Hermione bid her parents a final goodbye, leaving them and the Weasley's to board the train with her friends. 

 

The four parents stood, Molly and Arthur, Jean and John, embracing each other and watching as their babies set off for their final year at Hogwarts. They stayed until the steam was all but gone, hands waving - though the kids no longer saw them. 

 

* * *

  
  


Lucius was blessedly absent the morning while Draco was departing for his last term. His mother walked alongside him, all pomp and grace in her floor length deep purple robes that swayed when she moved. Her face gave no hint of the altercation that she endured the night before, and for that, Draco was grateful. He kissed his mother on the cheek, and she, the epitome of elegance, embraced him gently before stepping back with a nod. No tears shone in her eyes, no quivering of her lip, nothing to show that she would, in anyway, miss her son until she saw him again in December. 

 

“Have a wonderful year Draco.” Her voice was soft. 

 

“Be safe mother.” Came his reply and Draco was off to greet his friends and board the train. Narcissa turned to leave before he had even set foot on the train, gone through the barrier and on her way. 

 

* * *

  
  


The scarlet steam engine that was the Hogwarts Express hurtled towards its destination with a speed unfelt by the passengers aboard it. The students - ickle first years all the way through the seasoned seventh years were alight with excitement as the train sped through the winding, mountainous terrain of Northern Scotland. Draco felt a calm pour over him that had nothing to do with the fingers weaving through his feather soft, blonde hair. His head was resting on Pansy Parkinson’s lap, and her slim fingers were massaging his scalp soothingly. No, this calm came from five blissful months of being Lucius free. No need to walk on eggshells where he was going, because he was The Lucius of Hogwarts and people tended to tread lightly around him.

 

Blaise, Theo, Crabb, Goyle and Tracey were present in the compartment as well, though, if truth be told, Tracey looked like she would rather be anywhere else. Draco gave a knowing nod to Blaise, he must’ve already broken it off with the girl and she took it hard. 

 

Draco was spacing as Pansy droned on about her summer, her vacation to the Carpathian Mountains, being the highlight of it. Crabb and Goyle chiming in about their quidditch practice over the summer holidays and how they will win the Cup this year because of it. But Draco was lost to all of it, his thoughts focused on Her. He didn’t see Her on the platform, before boarding the train. He didn’t see Her when he walked down the corridor, passing by compartment after compartment and glancing through the windows that didn’t have their shades pulled down. He couldn’t wait to see Granger. He laced his fingers together and rested them on his chest. Slate gray eyes lowered and finally closed, a small smile spread across his face as he pictured seeing Her, getting at her and having his way with her. He would have easy access to her now. No Burrow to run to. No place to hide. It was just him and her for the next ten months and his smile grew wider as he contemplated it. Would he be gentile? Could he make her want it? Or will she fight him tooth and nail, hurt him so that he was forced to hurt her? He still wasn’t sure which he liked better. Grabbing her by the hair and fucking her until she begged for mercy … or making her cum, making her body want it, want him. 

 

* * *

  
  


The Golden trio - plus Ginny were sharing a compartment with Neville and Luna. The compartment was cramped with the students and Hedwig’s cage and Crookshanks napping, but that was normal. Neville, Ron and Harry played exploding snap, while Ginny and Luna discussed the latest issue of The Quibbler. Hermione wasn’t too fond of the spacey blonde girl, but was even less fond of The Quibbler, so she sat, knees pulled up to her chest, with a book propped on her legs. She ought to be reading but wasn’t, her eyes scanning the pages she wasn’t turning, not quite absorbing the words she was viewing. Hermione’s thoughts were elsewhere. She had another nightmare last night. Malfoy had stalked her dreams more time than she could count all summer, but the nice ones were becoming few and far between. She could count on one hand how many  _ pleasant  _ dreams she had with him in it. Instead, he was the star of her nightmares. None felt as real as that first night, but all were terrifying in there own right and she was a bit worried about seeing him for the first time this term. Any time he showed up in her dreams now, it was to drag her by her hair and plunge himself into her ruthlessly. Gone were the softer caresses that she could orgasm from, no more wicked licks between her legs or fingers in her slit that had her no's come out halfheartedly. No, when his face shows up, it was to hurt her and it scares her. 

 

Hermione stood, mentally shaking herself. She mentioned something about the heads meeting to her friends, slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and left. She clutched the book to her chest, one arm wrapped around it, and while she was easily twenty minutes early to the meeting, she would rather be there, alone with her thoughts, than in the company of those who kept asking her “what's wrong?”. She ran her fingers over  the Head Girl pin that was fastened to her chest again, as she had done many times before. In her bag were lists of prefect rounds and schedules to be doled out at the meeting. The compartment was thankfully empty when Hermione got there. So she sat, alone, book open in her lap, and thinking. 

 

* * *

  
  


About half way through the train ride, Theo stood up and stretched languidly.  Being head boy came with its duties and it was time for him to make his way to the meeting cabin with the head girl and prefects. He slid the compartment door closed with a soft thud and as he made his way down the narrow corridor towards the cabin, he wondered just who the head girl was. If he had to bet money on it, he’d be willing to wager that it would be Granger. He would be sharing a dorm with the head girl all year, and he’d much prefer someone more  _ fun _ than the swotty know it all. 

 

He pulled his head boy pin from his pocket and stuck it to the chest of his jumper, taking his time as he made his way to the compartment. Though he’d left his seat ten minutes before it was time, he wasn’t the first person there. As he slid the door shut behind him, he turned and was greeted by the messy bun of Hermione Granger. She was perched at the end of one of the benches, tight jean clad legs drawn up with a book on her knees, as though she’d been here for a while. Theo glanced over her, noted her striped sweater, careless hairdo, and the heavy tomb that rested on her legs. Her head lifted at the sound of the door closing and she laid eyes on him. She was met with a striking stare, eyes almost the color of jade as he looked at her. His olive toned skin and jet black hair made the green pop animatedly from his face. His pleasing, square jaw line was host to a five o’clock shadow and his muggle attire had him looking like he came off the cover of G Q Magazine, with fitted blue jeans and a form hugging black jumper. 

 

Hermione was caught unawares looking at him. She wasn’t even sure what his name was, but she knew just from looking at him that he was Slytherin. She was sure she’d seen him with Malfoy before, him and their dark Italian friend, Blaise? If it wasn’t from him being with Malfoy, It was in his stature, the way he held himself and the air of importance that he exuberated. How many Slytherin’s became head boy or girl? She wondered to herself. 

 

“Hello” she finally spoke. She closed the book in her lap and placed it on top of her bag. She stood up before him, and was not shocked to find that she was practically a full foot shorter than him. 

 

“I’m Hermione Granger.” She stuck her hand out to him. “I’m head girl.” 

 

Theo looked down at her hand, Hermione guessed he was contemplating whether to shake it or not.  _ Just take it  _ she mentally urged him, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot. 

 

While the handshake was brief, and he retreated quickly, she was pleasantly surprised to find that his hand was warm in hers. What was she expecting? It to be cold, because was a cold blooded snake? She laughed at the thought internally. 

 

“Theodore Nott,” He said, pushing that same hand into the pocket of his jeans. His voice was smooth, his teeth, she noticed, were perfectly straight and brilliantly white. As a dentist’s daughter, she approved.  “A pleasure.” 

 

* * *

  
  
  


The Meeting went off without a hitch. Hermione dished out the copies of the base schedules for prefect rounds and duties, went over everything that was expected of them and the rules and responsibilities of being a prefect. Her and Ron had been prefects back in their fifth year, so she felt fully qualified to delegate the responsibility. Theo stood back and listened. Watched as Hermione handed out the mock schedules,  _ to be amended once we know the dates and times of quidditch practices, frog choir and dueling club,  _  She had said in her astute voice. Hermione took everything into account, and left Theo with nothing. So he stood there, arms were crossed over his chest, his back leaning against the window and watched her from behind. She spoke with her hands and quickly enough to keep the attention of the eight other students, but not fast as to be dismissive or rude. She was abrupt, to the point, and before he knew it, finished. The fifth years were leaving and Hermione turned around. She looked up at him, and Theo cocked his head to the side. He was still leaning against the window, though now his ankles were crossed as well and he was the perfect picture of nonchalant. 

 

“You didn’t have anything to add did you?” She asked. The door slammed shut behind them, signaling that the last of the prefects had filed out and it was just the two of them left. 

 

“Wouldn’t matter if I did now, would it?” Theo said, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

 

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t.” She looked thoughtful, biting her bottom lip lightly before continuing “Sorry about that. It’s just, I’ve done this before, you know. I was a prefect and the heads at the time were so long winded.” She rolled her cinnamon colored eyes remembering. “It took up much more time than it had to, so I wanted to just make sure they knew their jobs and be done with it..” She looked up at him again. He was standing now, having pushed off from the window, and his arms hung at his side, with hand one tucked into his pants pocket. His head was still cocked at he took in her expression, he had a look of amusement, as though he might burst out laughing at any moment. 

 

“What?” Hermione said, her slender brows furrowing. She felt like the butt of someone’s joke. 

 

“Nothing Granger.”  Theodore Nott’s head shook as he replied. “I’ll see you.” He said. 

 

There was plenty of space, but he still brushed her shoulder as he walked past her and towards the door. It wasn’t rude, it wasn’t aggressive, but it was startling nonetheless. Hermione was facing the window, she lifted her hand to her shoulder, where his body had made contact, and touched it gently. Before Theo slid the door open, he turned back to look at her. Her back was to him, she was holding her shoulder and he smirked to himself, his head shaking one more time. He opened the door, stepped into the corridor and closed it behind himself. 

 

“Ugh, why Granger?” He muttered to himself as he made his way back to his fellow Slytherins. Though, after watching her from behind for that whole meeting, he did come to realize there were plenty of uglier witches he could have been stuck with. Granger was at least halfway decent to look at, and her arse wasn’t that bad either, he thought to himself. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


As the Hogwarts Express slowed to a stop outside of Hogsmeade station, Hermione felt a sense of contentment flow over her, as sure as the cool night air did, once she had stepped foot off of the train and onto the old platform. 

 

As Head Boy and Girl, one of their many jobs was to escort the first years to The Black Lake, and Hermione couldn’t help but think back to her first time crossing the lake in the tiny, lantern lit boats.  _ Hagrid had taken her and the rest of the new students to the boats and loaded them in, three at a time, to sail to their final destination. Hermione had sat, little as she was, in the bow of the boat, eyes wide in sheer awe as she first laid eyes on the then mysterious school of Hogwarts in the distance _ . 

 

After depositing the students in the trusted hands of Hagrid, the gamekeeper, Hermione left Theo’s side and caught up with her three best mates. They made their way to the horseless, black carriages that would take the rest of the students up to the castle. Ron, Harry and Ginny were waiting for her, standing next to an available carriage. It was then that she caught a glimpse of white blonde hair. She saw the back of Malfoy’s head as he and Blaise waited for Theo to join them. Her heart rate skyrocketed, thumping wildly in her chest and  Hermione scrambled through the open door of her own carriage. She pressed her back into the seat and slowed her breathing down.  _ Get a hold of yourself Hermione!  _ She chided herself as Ron, Ginny and Harry climbed in after her.  Harry lounged in his seat, head peering out of the window to catch a glimpse of the Hogwarts Skyline. It’s turrets dotted with soft gold light that poured out of the embrasures and into the clear night sky. Ginny was next to him, their hands held in her lap. Ron sat next to Hermone, looking at her expectantly. 

 

“Excited to be going back?” Ron asked. 

 

Hermione smiled the warm and friendly smile she always gave Ron. “Yes.” She said.

“It’s like coming home.” Harry said and they all nodded in agreement. 

* * *

  
  
  


Draco was already seated in the carriage when Blaise, Theo, Crabb and Goyle finally climbed in. They were enthusiastically discussing the odds of Slytherin winning the Quidditch cup this year, and Draco was listening intently. He was seeker on the Slytherin team, and having been thwarted of the Quidditch cup his entire Hogwarts career, he was really hoping to give it to Potter good this year and win it. 

 

The ride was short lived and bumpy as the carriages were pulled up to the entrance gates of Hogwarts. Wrought iron bars that were swung and held open by an unseen force, had pillars on either side where two large, winged, hogs sat atop; the pillars molding seamlessly into the rampart that encircled the massive Hogwarts grounds. The five students disembarked the carriage and terraced the rough pathway and stone steps leading up to the castle.  The grand entryway had large double oak doors that stood propped open for the evening. Draco and his band of misfits went straight to the dining hall for the Welcome Back Feast that was sure to please. 

 

It was his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, but Draco was still awe inspired when he stepped foot into the great hall on the first of September. Though he didn’t let it show, he glimpsed the ceiling that was enchanted to reflect the clear starry night sky and bright full moon, hundreds of candles floating overhead added an ambiance that had him feeling like he was being welcomed back by a long lost friend. He was enveloped in the familiar sights and smells that he came to associate with only Hogwarts. He took to the Slytherin table with his friends and listened haphazardly as the nervous first years were sorted into their houses one by one. 

 

Draco wasn’t paying this process any mind, instead using this time to glance over the returning students. His eyes traveled up and down the four long tables in the great hall, Gryffindor being the furthest away from his, with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff sitting in between. He spotted her. Her back was to him, but he would recognize The Mudblood anywhere, even if she wasn’t sandwiched between Scarhead and The Weasel. 

 

His fingers absentmindedly spun the ring that sat on his left hand, it was his signet ring that held the Malfoy’s family crest on it. He heard the stool being pulled away, the old song hat put aside and the applauding come to an end as the last student was sorted into her house. Ravenclaw, from the sound of the cheering, was welcoming the small girl with open arms and she ran happily over to the table. The once nervous look on her face being replaced with elation as she took her seat next to the other first years. 

 

Headmaster Albus Dumbledoor was now stepping up to the lectern and all eyes fell on the ancient looking man. The older man had white hair, a tall pointed wizards hat and a long beard the same snowy color as his hair. He cleared his throat, and his thin lips began to move as he started his welcome back speech. 

 

“Welcome Students, to another year at Hogwarts” Though his face was stern, his voice was kind and his blue eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of his pupils. His arms outstretched wide, as though he could hug the students from his podium. “I must warn the first years to stay out of the forbidden forest, as this is out of bounds for all of you. And our Caretaker, Mr Filch, would have me remind you not to be out of your dormitories past curfew.” The speech droned on, but Draco didn’t hear it, lost as he was in his thoughts about Granger. 

* * *

  
  
  


Harry, Hermione and Ron were seated at the Gryffindor table, across from Ginny, Neville, and Seamus. They listened as the Headmaster spoke, eyes riveted to the front of the hall. 

 

“Now, let us not wait any longer,” Dumbledoor’s arms outstretched again, his head bowed slightly as his speech came to a close “Tuck in”. The headmaster returned to his seat at the center of the staff table.

 

Hermione’s attention was pulled back to her table as the feast appeared before them. Platters, dishes and bowls filled of their own accord with an assortment of delicious food. The first years looked on, mouths agape at the sight, while the older students, having seen this happen many times before; grabbed hold of serving utensils and piled their plates high with meats, cheeses, breads and vegetables of all colors. Hermione reached for the pumpkin juice at the same time Ron did, their fingers touching on the handle of the decanter. He pulled back slightly, as her hand was there first, and she blushed a little looking at him. “Oh, sorry,” She mumbled to him “Here, let me.”  She filled his golden goblet with a healthy amount before filing her own. “Thank you.” Ron said. He was putting heaping helpings of kippers, bangers and mash and green beans onto his plate. Hermione did the same, though it was a considerably less amount. The first mouthful was heaven, and she savored the taste of potatoes with a soft moan. Ron looked at her, eyes wide with the sound she gave off, but he was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as Harry spoke up. 

 

Harry - Quidditch captain that he was, had his first order of business and that was to discuss the team. “It should be a good year for Quidditch.” His smile was broad. “I know I have to hold tryouts for the team, but I’m betting that you and Ginny will keep your positions.” He was looking at Ron, who nodded enthusiastically, all thoughts of Hermione’s moan gone. 

 

The feast was a long affair, lasting for a couple of hours before the plates were clearing themselves and the students were standing to leave. Hermione glanced around the tables, looking for the prefects who were due to escort their new students their houses. She was disappointed to find that they had not corralled the first years yet. 

 

“I’ll see you all in the morning.” She said to her friends, and stood from the table. They all waved goodbye and she was on her way.  

 

She walked across the Great Hall towards the still crowded Slytherin table, approaching Nott, who happened to be seated with Malfoy and Zambini. Malfoy’s gray eyes landed on her and she quickly averted her gaze. Her heart hammered in her chest, her palms started to sweat, but she muscled on. Duties were duties and she needed Theo to get his house and Ravenclaw in order while she got Gryffindor and Hufflepuff sorted. 

 

* * *

  
  


Draco watched as The Mudblood stood from her table, their eyes met for the first time in weeks and a cruel smile spread across his face. She looked away, but he wouldn’t be deterred. He stared at her approaching form, hating the baggy school robes that she now wore - they took so much away from her figure. But he knew what she looked like beneath, and it had his cock twitching in his pants. She bit her lip as she neared the table, he wanted to bite it too. 

 

She was still avoiding looking at him, he wondered why. Had she thought about him over the summer? Did she remember her dream, or have more? Draco wondered to himself.  She cleared her throat as she got to the table, Theo’s back was to her, and her voice came out quiet as she said his name. “Nott.” 

 

Theo turned on the bench. “Yeah Granger?” 

 

“A word please?” She asked. 

 

“Sure.” He said as he stood from the table and walked up to her. “What’s up?” 

 

“The prefects haven’t taken the first years yet. I need you to get Slytherin and Ravenclaw together. I’ll handle Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, okay?” She was looking up at him as she spoke, though she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched from the Slytherin table. 

 

“Now?” Theo asked. 

 

“Yes, now. The feast is about over and the prefects have yet to get the first years.” Her words were kurt as she spoke. She stuck her sweaty hands into the pockets of her robes, wanting to be anywhere but there right now. 

 

“Okay, yeah. I’ll talk to them.” Theo turned around walked away from her, back towards his table. 

 

Draco was still watching The Mudblood, and when Theo turned his back on her, she glanced at the table again. He smirked when their eyes met once more, not daring to look away, he held her gaze until she finally bristled and walked away. 

 

“I’ve got stuff to do, I’ll see you all in a bit”  Theo said to Draco and Blaise. They nodded and he was off. 

 

Draco stood up and looked at Blaise “I’m turning in, I’ll see you.” And he too left. 

 

He wanted to get going before the rest of the student. He’d learned in years past to beat the gaggles of first years as they are escorted through the halls. He exited the Great Hall, heading to the left and down two flights of stairs to the dungeons. It was as though they had stepped into a cooling charm, the temperature dropping significantly. The dungeons were located underground, in the belly of the castle and as such, it was always ten degrees cooler down here than the remainder of the castle. 

 

The stone walls were windowless and the only light to be seen was the subtle glow of the torches spaced along the walls in intervals. Suits of armor, tapestries and portraits littered the walls in between. The corridors were long and winding and the temperature grew colder still as he continued his descent down to the Slytherin common room. He walked past Professor Snape’s office, Snape being the head of his house and his godfather to boot. After a right turn, he then passed Potions classroom and after another moment of walking, he reached a blank space of wall that was the hidden door to his dorm. 

 

“Pure blood.” He said, and a door revealed itself where the blank wall once was. Behind him, he could hear the Slytherin prefect bringing the group of first years along. 

 

Draco stepped into a dimly lit, large and long common room that seemed to be illuminated with touches of green light. This light coming from the far wall that had quite a few tall windows scattered across it, though instead of looking out into the night, these openings gave an eerie underwater view of The Black Lake. And, as it did every September first, as though he knew what the date was, The Giant Squid swam into view - putting on a show for the newcomers. The first years had entered behind Draco and he watched as they ran towards the windows. Their hands and faces pressed against the glass, they took in the enormous squid’s black and almost slimy looking tentacles, which slipped and slithering against the glass while he moved back and forth between the windows. 

 

Draco moved to one of the many cushioned arm chairs that littered the common room. He chose the hearth side chair and sat down, crossing one leg over his knee and leaned back in the chair. He closed his eyes briefly while waiting for Blaise, Crabb or Goyel to enter the common room. He was itching for a smoke, and sense Theo would be occupied with his head duties, that left just him and Zambini to go make use of the few caves that were scattered around the dungeons. That is, if Blaise ever showed up. 

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


Hermione was dog tired when she walked up to the heads dormitory. Just as she suspected, it was located on the third floor and was guarded by a suit of arms. When she said the password to get in, that same suit of arms leapt aside with a clanking of rusted metal to admit her entrance.   

 

“That could do with a bit of oil.” She mumbled to herself as she walked through the door. She was met with the sight of a small circular room. It was about half the size of the Gryffindor common room, but just as comfortable. One long sofa took up the center of it, while two arm chairs were on either side of it. A low coffee table sat before them, and all of the pieces were facing an already burning fire. She stepped further into the room, noting two doors against the back wall as well as a small kitchenette in the corner. It was complete with a three cupboards, a sink, and small cooling box.  

 

"Quaint" Hermione said to herself as she crossed the room towards the closed doors. She noticed an inscription on the doors, one reading head boy while the other said head girl. She opened the door that was hers and peered inside. She was pleased to find that all of her belongings had been brought up from the train. Her trunk sat at the end of her four poster, the hangings of them reflecting the same red as the Gryffindor house. Crookshanks was curled up, an orange ball of fur in the center of her bed and she watched for a moment, his body rose and fell slowly in his sleep. This observation was disturbed, however, by the sound of the squeaky suit of arms jumping out of the path of who she assumed was Theo. 

 

Hermione turned around to greet the head boy. “Busy night, huh?” 

 

Theo wasn’t alone, Blaise Zambini came walking in with him and Hermione frowned. She didn’t bring Harry or Ron on their first night, why would he bring a guest? 

 

“Yeah, those Ravenclaws were a mess.” He said, looking thoughtful, he added, “Which is kind of strange, considering they are the smart house, right?” Both Blaise and Theo laughed at his jab at the Ravenclaws. They stepped further into the shared living space, taking in their surroundings.

 

Hermione excused herself for the evening. She turned abruptly and locked herself away in the room marked as hers. At least, she thought to herself, I have some privacy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Kudos! Love it? Comment! Want more? Tell me! I only write because you read it, let me know what you think.   
> Sooo ... Theo is head boy, and was there a connection there on the train?   
> We've already had Blaise in the heads dorm, it's only a matter of time before we see Draco.  
> Will he be different now? Now that he's back at Hogwarts, where he is the big dog ... ?   
> Hermione ... you better run girl, run for the hills and don't look back!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't kill me okay! I know some will be mad with this, but in my honest opinion, Draco is a dick.  
> He always was and always will be a dick, and the "soft side of Draco" just gets on my nerves.  
> That's not him.  
> He's not a good guy. He's mean, he's cruel, he's selfish ... and I've portrayed him how I see him.  
> With that said, Comment if you like. I'd appreciate it.  
> I was thinking of making this a story, but want to see how it's received first.  
> Thanks for reading - have a good day!


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